OF  THE 

U N I VERS  ITY 
Of  ILLI  NOIS 

813 

Ao  7Ss 

1917 


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STANDISH  OF  STANDISH.  A Novel. 

BETTY  ALDEN.  A Novel. 

A NAMELESS  NOBLEMAN.  A Novel. 

DR.  LE  BARON  AND  HIS  DAUGHTERS.  A Novel. 
DAVID  ALDEN’S  DAUGHTER,  and  other  Stories  of 
Colonial  Days. 

THE  DESMOND  HUNDRED.  A Novel. 
NANTUCKET  SCRAPS.  Being  the  Experiences  of 
an  Off-Islander  In  Season  and  Out  of  Season. 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
Boston  and  New  York 


OLD  COLONY  STORIES 

BY  JANE  G.  AUSTIN 


$ (f 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


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I 


T is  a wondrous  poor  pen,  Joh,7i  ” {page  182) 


(s8i  r,Vj'  ^ v'r^' 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH 
A Story  of  the  Pilgrims 


BY 

JANE  G.  AUSTIN 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
Cambw&o* 


COPYRIGHT,  1869,  BY  JANE  G.  AUSTIN 
COPYRIGHT,  1917,  BY  LILIAN  I.  DE  SILVA 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


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TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  MY  DEAR  BROTHER, 

JOHN  A.  GOODWIN, 

WHO  MORE  THAN  ANY  MAN  HAS  CONSERVED  FOR  OUR  DELIGHT 
THE  STORY  OF  THOSE  PILGRIM  FATHERS 
11  WITHOUT  WHOSE  LIVES  OURS  HAD  NOT  BEEN.” 

* 


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N 


A PREFATORY  NOTE. 


The  history  of  the  Old  Colony  includes,  among  some 
very  stern  facts,  a deal  of  sweet  and  tender  romance, 
hitherto  hardly  known  except  to  those  who  have  learned 
it  at  their  mother’s  knee. 

But  in  these  days  many  persons  seem  disposed  to 
pause  for  a moment  in  the  eager  race  after  the  golden 
fruits  of  the  Pilgrims’  husbandry,  and  to  look  curiously 
back  at  the  spot  where  the  seed  was  sown. 

To  such  I offer  this  story  of  Myles  Standish,  The* 
Sword-of-the-White-Men,  the  hero,  who  not  for  gain, 
not  from  necessity,  not  even  from  religious  zeal,  but 
purely  in  the  knightly  fervor  of  his  blood,  forsook  home, 
and  heritage,  and  glory,  and  ambition,  to  company  that 
helpless  band  of  exiles,  and  to  be  the  Great-Heart  of 
their  Pilgrimage  to  the  City  that  they  sought. 

To  such  students  I will  promise  that  they  shall  not  be 
misled  as  to  facts,  though  these  be  strung  upon  a slen- 
der thread  of  romance ; and  I will  beg  them  to  ground 
themselves  well  upon  the  solid  Pilgrim  Rock,  that  they 
may  the  better  understand  the  story  of  Lazarus  Le- 
Baron,  son  of  A Nameless  Nobleman,  to  be  offered 
them  in  due  time,  unless  Time  shall  be  no  more  for  the 
Author. 


JANE  G.  AUSTIN. 


CONTENTS. 


Vi 

PAOS 

XXV.  A Little  Discipline  ....  266 

XXVI.  The  First  Thanksgiving  Day  of  New  Eng- 
land   276 

XXVII.  A Love  Philtre 288 

XXVIII.  Philip  De  La  Noye 296 

XXIX.  Keeping  Christmas 311 

XXX.  A Soldier’s  Instinct  • • • . 319 

XXXI.  A Pot  of  Broth  ••••••  343 

XXXII.  The  Sunset  Gun 351 

XXXIII.  Pecksuot’s  Knife 356 

XXXIV.  The  Wolf  at  the  Door  • • • • 370 

XXXV.  The  Brides’  Ship  ..••••  376 

XXXVI.  Marriage  Bells 385 

XXXVII.  “And  to  be  Wroth  with  one  we  Love!”  395 

XXXVIII.  Barbara 406 

XXXIX  A Military  Wedding 418 

XL.  “ Parting  is  such  Sweet  Sorrow  I y • 420 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  TUBS. 

It  was  Monday  morning. 

It  was  also  the  twenty-third  day  of  November  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  1620 ; but  this  latter  fact  was  either 
unknown  or  matter  of  profound  indifference  to  the  two- 
and-twenty  women  who  stood  ready  to  make  the  day 
memorable  in  the  world’s  history,  while  the  fact  of 
Monday  was  to  them  one  of  paramount  importance. 

Do  you  ask  why  this  was  thus  ? 

The  answer  is  duplex : first,  the  two-and-twenty 

women  were  not  aware  of  their  own  importance,  nor 
could  guess  that  History  would  ever  concern  herself 
with  the  date  of  their  present  undertaking  ; and  second, 
for  a reason  whose  roots  are  prehistoric,  for  they  spring 
from  the  unfathomable  depths  of  the  feminine  soul 
wherein  abides  inherently  the  love  of  purity,  of  order, 
and  of  tradition.  Yes,  in  two  hundred  and  seventy 
years  the  face  of  Nature,  of  empires,  and  of  peoples 
has  changed  almost  beyond  recognition  in  this  our 
New  World ; but  the  grand  law  at  whose  practical  es- 
tablishment in  the  New  World  we  now  assist,  abides  to- 
day:— 

Monday  is  Washing  Day. 


2 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Does  some  caviler  here  suggest  that  although  the  hu- 
man female  soul  is  embodied  in  the  children  of  Ham, 
Shem,  and  Japhet,  the  mighty  law  referred  to  is  bind- 
ing only  upon  that  Anglo-British-Saxon-Norman  divi- 
sion of  Japhet’s  daughters  domiciled  in  and  emanating 
from  the  British  Isles  ? Let  us  proudly  reply  that  in 
considering  the  result  of  a process  we  consider  the 
whole  ; and  let  us  meekly  add  that  to  our  mind  the 
Anglo-British-Saxon-Norman  woman,  perfected  under  an 
American  sky,  is  the  woman  of  the  world  ; and  finally, 
let  us  point  to  the  two-and-twenty  heroines  of  that  Mon- 
day as  chief  among  American  women,  for  they  were  the 
Pilgrim  Mothers  of  the  New  World. 

The  Pilgrim  Fathers  were  there  also  ; and  they,  too, 
were  exemplifying  a law  of  nature,  that  is  to  say,  a law 
of  male  nature  in  every  clime  and  every  age.  They 
did  not  love  Washing  Day.  They  felt  no  joy  in  the 
possibility  of  its  observance,  they  felt  no  need  of  its 
processes.  And  yet  again  more  humano , they  did  not 
openly  set  themselves  against  it,  they  did  not  frankly 
express  their  unworthy  content  in  their  present  estate, 
but  they  feebly  suggested  that  as  the  observance  had 
been  some  weeks  omitted,  with  no  sensible  loss  of  com- 
fort to  themselves,  it  might  well  be  farther  postponed  ; 
that  the  facilities  were  by  no  means  remarkable ; that 
rain  was  very  possible,  and  that  they  had  to  apply  them- 
selves without  delay  to  unshipping  the  pinnace  from  the 
hold  of  the  Mayflower,  and  fitting  her  for  the  immediate 
service  of  exploration. 

To  these  arguments  the  women  meekly  responded 
that  in  the  nature  of  things  they  were  better  fitted  to 
judge  of  the  emergency  than  their  lords,  whose  attention 
must  be  absorbed  in  matters  of  so  much  higher  import ; 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  TUBS . 


3 


that  they  did  not  require  the  help  of  any  man  whose 
work  upon  the  pinnace  would  be  at  all  important,  and 
that  the  sandy  beach,  the  pool  of  fresh  water,  and  the 
clumps  of  stunted  shrubs  fairly  spread  upon  the  shore 
in  front  of  them  were  all  the  facilities  they  required. 
As  for  the  weather,  as  Dame  Hopkins  piously  re- 
marked : — 

“ If  Monday’s  weather  be  not  fit  for  washing,  there  is 
no  promise  in  Holy  Writ  of  anything  better  in  the  rest 
of  the  week.” 

“ Oh,  if  thou  r’t  bent  on  washing,  the  shrewedest  storm 
that  ever  swept  the  Zuyder  Zee  will  never  stop  thee ; so 
get  thy  rags  together  as  soon  as  may  be,”  growled  her 
husband,  a grizzled,  hard-visaged  veteran  some  twenty 
years  older  than  this  his  second  wife  of  whom  he  was 
very  fond. 

“ Nay,  then,”  interposed  another  voice,  as  a shrewd, 
kindly  looking  man,  albeit  with  a certain  whimsical  cast 
to  his  thin  features,  approached  the  pair ; “ Mistress 
Hopkins  will  do  no  washing  to-day  ; no,  nor  even  go  on 
shore  to  gather  chill  and  weariness  for  my  little  friend 
Oceanus.” 

“ 6 Will  not,’  shall  not  ? Marry  and  who  is  to  hinder, 
if  you  please,  good  Master  Fuller  ? ” asked  the  young 
woman  in  a somewhat  shrewish  voice. 

“I,  Samuel  Fuller,  Licentiate  of  Cambridge,  late 
practitioner  of  Bartlemy’s  Hospital,  London,  and  your 
medical  adviser,  madam,”  replied  the  doctor  with  a dry 
smile  and  mocking  bow.  “ Recall,  if  you  please,  that 
Oceanus  is  not  yet  a fortnight  old,  and  that  both  mother 
and  child  are  still  my  responsibility.  Would  you  ruin 
my  reputation,  madam,  not  to  mention  risking  your  own 
life  and  the  boy’s  ? ” 


4 


STANDI SH  OF  STANDI  SB. 


“ Have  a care,  Doctor,  or  some  fine  day  you  ’ll  trip  in 
your  own  quips,  and  break  your  neck,”  replied  Mistress 
Hopkins  half  sullenly,  while  her  husband  cried,  — 

“ He ’s  right  there,  Bess.  Thou  ’rt  in  no  case  for 
such  rough  sport  as  this  is  like  to  prove,  and  thou  ’It 
stay  aboard  whoever  goes  ashore.” 

“ Yes,  stay  thou  aboard  and  mind  thy  babe,  and  I ’ll 
take  thy  clothes  along  with  my  own,  so  thou  ’It  let  Con- 
stance come  to  help  me,”  suggested  the  somewhat  coarse 
voice  of  a woman  standing  by. 

“ Thank  you  kindly,  goodwife  Billington,”  replied 
Elizabeth  Hopkins  coldly.  “ But  Alice  Rigdale  hath  al- 
ready promised  to  do  what  is  needed,  and  Constance 
must  stay  with  me  to  mind  Damaris  and  Oceanus.” 

“ Oh,  if  goodwife  Rigdale  has  taken  it  in  hand,  I will 
step  back,”  replied  Mistress  Billington  sharply ; and  as 
she  descended  the  companion-way,  Hopkins  muttered  in 
his  wife’s  ear,  — 

“Now  thou  showest  some  sense,  wench.  The  least 
thou  hast  to  do  with  the  Billington  brood  the  better  I ’ll 
be  pleased.” 

“ That ’s  worth  working  for,  surely,”  retorted  his 
wife,  tossing  her  head  pettishly. 

“ I tell  you  there ’s  no  boat  to  be  spared,  and  no  man 
to  row  it,  and  I ’ll  have  naught  to  say  to  it,”  exclaimed 
a surly  voice  from  the  companion-way,  and  Captain 
Thomas  Jones,  master  of  the  Mayflower,  but  not  of  the 
Pilgrims,  appeared  on  deck. 

Captain  Jones  was  not  an  amiable  man,  his  training 
as  buccaneer  and  slaver  having  possibly  blunted  his  finer 
feelings,  and  his  consciousness  of  present  treachery 
probably  increasing  the  irritability  often  succeeding  to  a 
murdered  conscience. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  TUBS. 


5 


Such  as  he  was,  however,  this  man  was  the  Inventor 
of  Plymouth  Rock,  since  by  his  collusion  with  the  Dutch 
who  wished  to  keep  the  profits  of  their  Manhattan  Col- 
ony to  themselves,  the  Mayflower  had  found  it  impossi- 
ble to  make  her  way  southward  around  Cape  Cod,  and 
after  nearly  going  to  wreck  upon  the  shoals  off  Malabar, 
or  Tucker’s  Terror  had  been  driven  within  the  embrace 
of  the  curving  arm  thrown  out  by  the  New  World  to 
welcome  and  shelter  the  homeless  children  of  the  Old. 
There  she  lay  now,  the  weather-beaten,  clumsy,  strained* 
and  groaning  old  bark  whose  name  is  glorious  in  the  an- 
nals of  our  country  while  Time  shall  endure,  and  whose 
merest  splinter  would  to-day  be  enshrined  in  gold  ; there 
she  lay  swinging  gently  to  the  send  of  the  great  Atlan- 
tic whose  waves  broke  sonorously  upon  the  beach  out- 
side, and  came  racing  around  the  point  a flood  of  shat- 
tered and  harmless  monsters,  moaning  and  hissing,  to 
find  their  prey  escaped  and  safely  landlocked. 

“ There ’s  no  boat,  I say,  and  there ’s  an  end  on ’t” 
repeated  Master  Jones  truculently  as  he  stepped  on 
deck,  and  two  men  who  had  been  earnestly  conversing 
at  the  stern  of  the  brig  turned  round  and  came  toward 
him.  They  were  John  Carver,  already  governor  of  the 
colony,  and  William  Bradford,  his  lieutenant  and  suc- 
cessor. The  governor  was  the  first  to  speak,  and  the 
somewhat  measured  accents  of  liis  voice,  with  its  inflec- 
tions at  once  kindly  and  haughty,  told  of  gentle  breed- 
ing, of  a calm  and  dignified  temper,  and  of  an  aptness 
at  command. 

“ And  why  no  boat,  Master  Jones  ? ” asked  he 
quietly.  “ Methought  by  the  terms  of  our  agreement 
you  were  to  aid  us  in  every  way  in  making  our  settle* 
ment.” 


6 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ And  I ’m  not  going  back  of  my  word,  am  I, 
master  ? ” demanded  Jones  peevishly.  “ A pack  of 
wenches  going  ashore  with  tubs  and  kettles  and  bales 
and  such  gear  is  not  a settlement,  is  it  ? ” 

“ Nay,  but  a means  thereto  if  haply  they  find  the 
place  convenient,”  replied  Carver  pleasantly.  “ At  any 
rate,  we  will  send  them,  since  it  has  been  promised,  and 
the  same  boat  will  serve  to  transport  them  with  their  gear 
that  is  already  fitted  to  help  us  ashore  with  the  pinnace.” 
“ And  our  own  men  will  do  all  that  is  required  in  lad* 
ing  and  rowing  the  boat,”  added  Bradford  in  his  mild* 
persuasive  voice,  Jones,  overborne  by  a calm  authority 
against  which  he  could  not  bluster,  turned  on  his  heel 
muttering  some  surly  assent.  Carver  slightly  smiled  as 
he  watched  the  square  and  clumsy  form  expressing  in 
every  line  of  its  back  the  futile  rage  of  an  overborne 
coward,  and,  turning  toward  the  companion  way,  he 
called,  — 

“ Howland,  John  Howland,  a word  with  thee  ! ” 

“ Ay,  sir,”  replied  a blithe  young  voice  ; and  presently 
a handsome  head  of  pure  Saxon  type,  as  indeed  were 
both  Bradford’s  and  Carver’s,  appeared  above  the  hatch- 
way, and  a strong  young  fellow  swinging  himself  upon 
deck  approached  the  governor,  saying  apologetically,  — 
“ I was  helping  to  get  out  the  pinnace,  and  there  is 
a mort  of  dust  and  dirt  about  her.” 

“ I ’ll  give  thee  a pleasanter  task,  John,”  replied 
Carver,  smiling  affectionately  upon  his  young  retainer. 
“Thou  and  John  Alden  and  Gilbert  Winslow  shall 
take  charge  of  the  women  who  fain  would  go  ashore  to 
wash  their  clothes.  They  will  use  the  boat  already  lying 
alongside,  and  thou  hadst  better  advise  with  Mistress 
Brewster  for  the  rest.  I leave  it  all  with  you  twain,” 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  TUBS. 


7 


“I  will  do  my  best,  sir,”  replied  Howland  with  a 
smile  that  showed  his  short,  strong  teeth  and  made  his 
blue  eyes  twinkle  pleasantly;  then  returning  to  the  hatch- 
way he  called  down,  — 

“ Ho,  Alden  ! You  ’re  wanted,  man,  and  so  is  Gilbert 
Winslow.” 

“ He ’s  not  here,  then,”  responded  a heavier  voice,  as 
a splendid  young  giant  swung  himself  up  on  deck  and 
ran  his  fingers  through  a shock  of  curling  chestnut  hair  ; 
a glorious  youth,  six  feet  and  over  in  his  hose  of 
hodden  gray,  with  the  shoulders  and  sinews  of  an  ath 
lete,  and  the  calm,  strong  face  of  an  Egyptian  god. 

“What  is  it,  John?”  asked  he,  fixing  his  dark 
eyes  upon  Howland  with  the  affectionate  gladness  one 
reads  in  the  eyes  of  a dog  called  to  his  master’s  side, 
but  of  which  few  human  natures  are  capable. 

“ Why,  Jack,  thou  and  I and  Gilbert  Winslow  are 
appointed  squires  of  dames  to  some  of  the  women  who 
would  fain  go  ashore  to  wash  clothes,  and  we  are  to 
pack  them  into  yonder  boat,  row  them  ashore,  and  then 
purvey  wood,  water,  and  such  like  for  them.” 

“ I ’d  liefer  haul  out  the  pinnace,”  replied  Alden 
with  a grimace.  “ But  your  will  is  mine.” 

“ Nay,  the  governor’s  will  is  thine  and  mine,  and  it  is 
he  set  us  this  task.  Where  is  Winslow  ? ” 

“ In  the  cabin  belike,  chatting  with  Mary  Chilton. 
It ’s  the  work  he  best  loves,”  replied  Alden  grimly. 
“ But  I ’ll  find  him.” 

“ And  some  of  the  boys,  Jack,”  suggested  Howland, 
as  the  younger  man  turned  away.  “ Bart  Allerton  and 
Love  Brewster,  Giles  Hopkins  and  Crakstone  and  Cooke, 
any  of  the  lads  that  you  fall  foul  of,  except  the  Billing- 
tons,  — of  them  I ’ll  have  none.” 


8 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISR. 


“ And  why  not  the  Billingtons,  worshipful  Master 
Howland,  lackey  of  the  governor,  and  page-boy  to  his 
wife,”  demanded  the  voice  that  had  interrupted  Mistress 
Hopkins,  and  turning  toward  it,  Howland  confronted  a 
short,  square  woman,  not  without  a certain  vulgar  come- 
liness of  her  own,  although  now  her  buxom  complexion 
was  florid  with  anger  and  her  black  eyes  snapping  an- 
grily, while  the  arms  akimbo,  the  swaying  figure,  and 
raised  voice  betrayed  Helena  Billington  for  precisely 
what  she  was,  a common  scold  and  shrew.  Howland 
was  a brave  man  ; he  had  already  showed  both  strength 
and  prowess  when,  washed  overboard  in  a “ seel  ” of  the 
ship,  and  carried  fathoms  deep  in  mid-ocean,  he  caught 
the  topsail-halyards  swept  over  with  him  and  clung 
to  them  until  he  was  rescued  in  spite  of  the  raging 
wind  and  waves  that  repeatedly  dragged  him  under; 
nor  in  the  face  of  savage  foe,  or  savage  beast,  or  peril 
by  land  or  sea,  was  John  Howland  ever  known  less  than 
the  foremost ; but  now  in  face  of  this  angry  woman  he 
found  naught  to  say,  and  blushing  and  stammering  and 
half  laughing  fairly  turned  and  ran  away,  springing  up 
the  stairs  to  the  elevated  deck  cabins,  in  one  of  which 
Elder  Brewster  and  his  family  had  their  lodging. 

Mistress  Brewster,  a pale,  sweet-faced  woman,  al- 
ready at  fifty-four  dressing  and  behaving  as  the  vener- 
able mother  in  Israel,  came  forward  to  meet  him,  and 
smiling  indulgently  asked,  — 

“Now  what  hast  thou  done  to  good  wife  Billington, 
thou  naughty  lad  ? I hear  thy  name  in  her  complaint, 
and  indeed  all  the  company  can  hear  it,  if  they 
will.” 

“I  did  but  say  I would  none  of  her  boys  in  my 
party,  dear  Mistress  Brewster,  and  I hope  you’ll  say  so 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  TUBS.  9 

too,”  replied  Howland,  uncovering  his  yellow  head. 
“ They  are  the  greatest  marplots  and  scapegraces  ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  John  ! Say  no  evil,  or  thou  ’It  make  me 
think  thou  hast  ’scaped  grace  thyself,”  suggested  the 
elder’s  wife  with  her  gentle  smile.  “ And  prithee,  what 
is  tliy  party  ? Are  my  boys  bidden,  or  must  they  e’en 
bide  with  the  Billingtons  ? ” 

“ The  party  is  your  party,  dear  dame,  for  the  gover- 
nor sent  me  to  ask  your  commands  upon  it,  and  if  Love 
and  Wrestling  will  give  us  such  aid  as  their  years  allow, 
I shall  be  most  grateful.” 

And  then  in  simple  phrase  Howland  repeated  the 
governor’s  instructions,  and  requested  those  of  the  dame, 
who  at  once  convened  an  informal  council  of  matrons, 
and  so  well  advised  them  that  in  a scant  hour  the 
clumsy  boat,  rolling  and  bumping  against  the  side  of  the 
brig,  was  laden  with  bales  of  clothing,  tubs  whose 
hoops  John  Alden,  a cooper  by  trade,  was  hurriedly 
overlooking,  and  sundry  great  brass  and  copper  kettles, 
household  necessities  of  that  epoch,  and  descending  as 
relics  to  us  who  look  upon  them  with  respectful  wonder 
as  memorial  brasses  of  the  “ giants  of  those  days.” 

A flock  of  women,  all  demurely  and  plainly  dressed, 
although  the  most  of  them  were  under  thirty  years  of 
age,  stood  waiting  at  the  head  of  the  ladder  until  the 
cargo  was  stored,  and  Howland,  sending  his  assistants 
back  on  deck,  planted  himself  upon  the  gunwale  of  the 
boat,  and  holding  out  his  hand  to  a stout,  solid-looking 
woman  with  a young  girl  beside  her  said,  — 

“ Mistress  Tilley,  you  had  best  come  first,  for  you 
will  be  apt  at  helping  the  others,  as  I hand  them  down* 
And  thou,  too,  Elizabeth,  if  thou  wilt.” 

“ And  Constance  Hopkins  and  Remember  Allerton/* 


10 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


pleaded  the  girl,  lifting  a sweet,  saucy  face  to  the  young 
man  ; “ we  never  are  separated,  for  we  ’re  all  of  an  age, 
all  going  on  sixteen  you  know.” 

“ Hush,  Bess,  thou  ’rt  malapert,”  chided  her  mother, 
descending  heavily  into  the  boat,  while  a mutinous  young 
voice  above  called  out,  — 

“ Nay,  I ’m  not  going.  Stepmother  won’t  spare  me.” 
u Now  Constance  Hopkins,  thou  naughty  hussy,  wilt 
thou  grumble  at  tarrying  with  me  to  care  for  thine  own 
dear  sister  and  brother  ? Fie  on  thee,  girl ! ” 

“ They  ’re  not  my  own,”  grumbled  Constance  in  Re- 
member Allerton’s  ear.  “ Giles  is  my  own  brother  and 
he  is  to  go,  and  Damaris  and  Oceanus  are  but  half  sister 
and  brother,  and  she ’s  but  my  stepmother.” 

“ Hush,  now,  or  she  ’ll  hear  and  thou  ’It  come  by  a 
whipping,”  whispered  Remember  hastily,  as  Dame  Hop- 
kins turned  from  Mistress  Winslow  who  had  spoken  to 
her,  and  came  toward  the  girls.  “ I ’ll  stay  aboard  with 
thee,  Constance,  and  help  thee  with  the  babies.” 

“ Thou  ’rt  a dear  good  wench  and  I love  thee,”  replied 
Constance  in  the  same  tone,  and,  as  the  stepmother  placed 
the  muffled  baby  in  her  arms,  she  took  him  without 
comment,  and  went  below  followed  by  Elizabeth  Tilley. 

Two  trips  of  the  capacious  boat  sufficed  to  carry 
women,  clothes,  utensils,  and  assistants  across  the  three 
quarters  of  a mile  of  shallow  water  lying  between  the 
brig  and  the  shore,  and  the  boys  who  went  in  the  first 
boat  were  at  once  set  to  work  to  gather  dry  stuff  from 
the  thickets  of  scrub  oak  and  pine  sparsely  clothing  the 
beach,  and  to  build  several  fires  along  the  margin  of  a 
large  pool  or  perhaps  pond  of  fresh  water  divided  from 
the  harbor  by  a narrow  beach  of  firm  white  sand. 
Beach  and  pond  have  long  since  been  devoured  by  the 


y-H e battle  of  the  tubs. 


11 


hungry  sea,  but  stumps  of  good-sized  trees  are  still  dug 
from  the  dreary  sands  environing  Provincetown,  to  show 
what  once  has  been. 

The  second  boat-load  arrived,  and  by  help  of  Alden’s 
stalwart  arm,  Howland’s  cool  decision  and  prompt  ac- 
tion, and  Winslow’s  quick  eye  and  ready  aid  to  any 
woman  needing  assistance,  the  apparatus  was  soon  ad- 
justed, and  a dozen  pairs  of  strong  white  arms  were 
plunged  in  the  suds,  or  throwing  the  clothes  into  the 
great  caldrons  bubbling  over  the  fires  which  the  boys 
gayly  replenished. 

Not  all  the  women  of  the  Mayflower  were  thus  en- 
gaged, however,  for  several  were  delicate  in  health,  and 
several  others  had  servants  who  took  this  ungentle  labor 
upon  themselves  ; but  those  who  did  not  labor  with 
their  hands  felt  no  superiority,  and  those  who  did  had 
no  shame  in  so  doing ; and  although  the  manners  of 
the  day  inculcated  a certain  deference  of  manner  and 
speech  from  the  lower  rank  to  the  higher,  and  from 
youth  to  age,  the  very  fact  that  every  one  of  these  per- 
sons had  abandoned  home  and  friends  and  comfort  that 
they  might  secure  liberty,  induced  a sense  of  self  respect 
and  respect  for  others,  which  is  the  very  root  and  basis 
of  a true  republic.  Thus  Katharine  Carver,  wife  of  the 
governor,  daughter  of  Bishop  White,  and  sister  of  Rob- 
inson, the  pastor  of  the  community  left  behind  in  Leyden, 
although  she  sent  her  maid  Lois,  and  her  man-servant 
Roger  Wilder,  to  do  the  required  work,  came  ashore  with 
the  rest,  and  by  a touch  here  and  a word  there,  and  her 
interest  and  sympathy,  took  her  part  in  the  labor  of  the 
whole,  and  delicate  woman  and  well-born  lady  though 
she  was,  made  each  of  those  hard-working  sisters  feel 
that  it  was  only  her  weakness,  and  not  her  station,  that 
prevented  her  doing  all  that  they  did. 


12 


ST  AN  DISH  OF  STANDISH. 


u Eleven  o’  the  clock,”  said  John  Alden,  as  the  May- 
flower’s cracked  bell  told  six  hoarse  strokes.  “ They 
said  they ’d  bring  our  dinner  ashore  for  us,”  and  he 
looked  wistfully  toward  Hie  ship. 

“ Who  said  ? ” asked  Howland  ; “ for  I ’ve  more  faith 
in  some  say-sos  than  in  some  others.” 

“ Well,  if  I remember,  ’t  wa's  Mistress  Molines  who 
told  me,”  replied  Alden  carefully  careless. 

“ Oh,  ay,”  assented  Howland,  his  blue  eyes  twinkling. 
“ But  I thought  she  was  ill,  poor  women.” 

“ Nay,  I meant  Mistress  Priscilla  Molines,”  retorted 
Hie  giant,  blushing.  “ She  said  somewhat  to  me  of  an 
onion  soup  which  she  flavors  marvelously  well.” 

“ Ah,  yes,  onion  soup,”  retorted  Howland  gravely. 
“ Methought  it  must  be  some  such  moving  theme  you 
discussed  yester  even  as  you  sat  on  the  cable.  I noted 
even  at  that  distance  the  tears  in  your  eyes.” 

“ And  if  there  were  tears  in  mine  eyes  it  is  no  matter 
of  mocking,  for  Mistress  Priscilla  was  telling  me  that 
her  mother  is  sick  as  she  fears  unto  death,  and  ” — 

“ John  Howland,  the  boat  is  coming  off  with  the  rest 
of  our  company  and  noon-meat  for  us  all.  Wilt  thou 
and  John  Alden  receive  and  help  them  ashore,  while 
Gilbert  helps  us  to  make  ready  here  ? ” 

“ Surely  we  will,  Mistress  Carver,”  replied  Howland 
heartily,  for  his  relationship  toward  the  governor  and 
his  beautiful  wife  was  rather  that  of  a younger  brother 
than  of  a retainer  ; and  although  the  smallness  of  his  for- 
tune had  induced  him  to  accept  the  patronage  of  the 
older  and  wealthier  man,  it  was  much  as  a lad  of  noble 
lineage  was  content  a few  years  before  this  to  become 
first  the  page  and  then  the  squire  of  a belted  knight. 

The  boat,  unable  to  reach  the  shore  on  account  of  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  TUBS. 


13 


flatness  of  the  beach,  stuck  fast  about  a bow-shot  from 
dry  land,  and  the  men  and  boys  at  once  tumbled  over 
the  edge  and  prepared  to  carry  not  only  the  luggage, 
but  the  female  passengers  ashore.  Alden  seeing  this 
prospect,  tore  off  his  boots  and  stockings,  and  plunging 
into  the  chill  water  hastened  to  the  stern  of  the  boat 
where  a slender,  vivacious  girl,  brown,  dark-eyed,  and 
with  cheeks  glowing  with  the  dusky  richness  of  a peach, 
stood  balancing  herself  like  a bird  and  giving  orders  to 
a young  man  already  in  the  water. 

“Now  have  a care,  Robert  Cartier,  of  that  kettle.  If 
thou  spillst  the  soup  ” — 

“ The  onion  soup,  Mistress  Priscilla  ? ” asked  Alden  ap- 
proaching unperceived.  Priscilla  cast  a look  at  him  from 
the  corners  of  her  long  eyes,  and  replied  carelessly,  — 
“Yes,  Master  Alden,  an  onion  soup.  Is  that  a favor- 
ite dish  with  your  worship  ? ” 

“Why,  thou  knowest,”  — began  the  young  man  with 
an  air  of  bewilderment,  but  Priscilla  interrupted  him. 

“ Since  thou  art  here  with  thy  broad  shoulders,  John 
Alden,  thou  wilt  do  well  to  make  them  of  use.  There  is 
Mistress  Allerton  struggling  with  a hamper  beyond  her 
strength,  and  there  are  bales  of  clothes  that  must  not  be 
wet.  Load  thyself,  good  mule,  and  plod  shoreward.” 

“ To  be  sure  I will  and  gladly,  fair  mistress,”  replied 
Alden  patiently.  “ But  first  let  me  take  thee  ashore  dry- 
shod,  and  then  I will  bring  all  the  rest.” 

“ Beshrew  thee  for  a modest  youth,”  retorted  Pris- 
cilla, the  peach  color  of  her  cheeks  deepening  to  pome- 
granate ; “ when  I go  ashore  I will  convey  myself,  or  my 
brother  will  carry  me  ; and  thou,  since  thou  art  so  pick- 
some,  may  set  thyself  to  work,  and  ask  naught  of  me.” 

“ But  why  art  thou  so  tart  when  I meant  naught,’ n 


14 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


began  Alden,  bewildered ; but  again  the  girl  cut  him 
short  with  a stinging  little  laugh. 

“ Thou  never  meanest  aught,  poor  John  ; but  I have 
no  time  to  waste  with  thee.  Here,  Robert,  these  come 
next,  and  take  Mistress  Allerton’s  hamper  as  well.” 

u Nay,  that  is  for  me,”  growled  Alden,  seizing  the 
basket  from  the  hands  of  the  astonished  servant  who  re- 
linquished it  with  a stare  and  a muttered  exclamation 
in  French ; for  William  Molines,  called  Mullins  by  the 
Pilgrims,  his  wife,  son,  daughter,  and  servant  were  all 
of  the  French  Huguenots,  who  fleeing  from  their  native 
land  planted  a colony  upon  the  river  Waal  in  Holland, 
and  were  at  this  time  known  as  Walloons.  Learning 
enough  of  Dutch  to  carry  on  the  business  of  daily  life, 
and  of  English  to  communicate  with  their  co-religionists 
of  the  Pilgrim  church  in  Leyden,  they  retained  French 
as  the  dear  home  language  of  their  birth,  and  the  young 
people,  like  Priscilla  and  her  brother  Joseph,  used  the 
three  languages  with  equal  facility. 

A little  offended  and  a good  deal  puzzled  by  the 
change  in  Priscilla’s  manner  since  their  last  interview, 
Alden  devoted  himself  to  unloading  the  boat  without 
again  addressing  her,  until  he  saw  her  confide  herself  to 
the  arms  of  her  brother  to  be  taken  ashore ; then  seizing 
an  armful  of  parcels,  he  strode  along  close  behind  the 
slender  stripling  whose  thews  and  sinews  were  obvi- 
ously unequal  to  his  courage,  and  who  floundered  pain- 
fully over  the  uneven  sands.  At  last  he  stumbled,  re- 
covered himself,  plunged  wildly  forward,  and  fell  flat 
upon  his  face,  while  his  sister,  suddenly  seized  and  held 
aloft  in  two  strong  arms,  did  not  so  much  as  wet  the 
hem  of  her  garment,  until  with  a few  swift  strides  her 
rescuer  set  her  on  dry  land  and  turned  to  help  the  boy 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  TUBS.  15 

who  came  floundering  after  them  with  a rueful  and  an- 
gry countenance. 

“ ’T  was  all  thy  fault,  Priscilla/’  began  he.  “ Twist- 
ing and  squirming  to  see  who  was  coming  after  us.” 

“ Nay,  ’t  was  the  fault  of  some  great  monster  who 
came  trampling  on  our  heels,  and  making  the  water  wash 
round  my  feet.  Some  whale  or  griffin  belike,  though  he 
has  hid  himself  again,”  and  the  girl  affected  to  shade 
her  eyes  and  scan  the  sparkling  waters,  while  Alden 
strode  moodily  away.  Priscilla  glanced  after  his  re- 
treating figure,  and  spoke  again  to  her  brother  in  a voice 
whose  cooing  softness  poor  John  had  never  heard. 

“ Thou  poor  dripping  lad  ! And  such  a cough  as 
thou  hast  already ! Come  with  me  sweetheart,  and  I ’ll 
set  thee  between  two  fires,  and  put  my  duffle  cloak  about 
thee,  and  heat  some  soup  scalding  hot.  I would  I had 
a sup  of  strong  waters  for  thee  — ah  yes,  I see  ! ” 

And  hurriedly  leading  her  brother  to  a sheltered  nook 
between  two  great  fires,  she  cast  her  cloak  over  his 
shoulders,  and  then  sprang  up  the  sand-hill  with  the 
graceful  strength  of  an  antelope  to  the  spot  where  Doc- 
tor Fuller  stood  talking  with  a man  whose  appearance 
demands  a word  of  description.  Short  and  square  built, 
the  figure  bespoke  strength  and  long  training  in  athletic 
exercises,  while  the  haughty  set  of  the  head,  the  well- 
shaped hands  and  feet,  and  the  clear  cut  of  the  features 
told  of  gentle  blood  and  the  habit  of  predominance. 
The  bare  head  was  covered  with  thick  chestnut  hair, 
worn  at  the  temples  by  pressure  of  a steel  cap,  and  well 
matched  in  color  by  eyes  whose  strong,  stern  glances 
carried  defeat  to  the  hearts  of  his  savage  foes  even 
before  his  quick  blows  fell.  The  mouth,  firmly  closed 
beneath  its  drooping  moustache,  was  like  the  eyes,  stern 


16 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


and  terrible  in  anger,  but  like  them  it  was  capable  of 
a winning  sweetness  and  charm  only  known  to  those  he 
loved,  those  he  pitied,  and  to  the  life-long  friends  whose 
loving  description  has  come  down  to  us  ; for  this  was 
Myles  Standish,  the  soldier  and  hero  of  the  Pilgrims; 
their  dauntless  defender  in  battle,  their  gentle  nurse  in 
illness,  their  councilor  and  envoy  and  shining  example 
in  peace  ; the  right  arm  of  the  colony,  its  modest  com- 
mander, and  its  intelligent  servant. 

As  Priscilla  approached,  the  two  men  ceased  their 
conversation  and  turned  toward  her,  neither  of  them  un- 
conscious of  the  beauty,  grace,  and  vigor  which  clothed 
her  as  a garment,  yet  each  restrained  by  inborn  chiv- 
alry and  respect  from  expressing  his  opinion. 

“ Oh,  Doctor,  or  you,  Captain  Standish,  have  either 
of  you  a flask  of  strong  waters  about  you  ? My  poor 
Joseph  has  fallen  in  the  water,  and  it  is  so  cold,  and  he 
has  already  a cough.” 

k<  Yes,  we  saw  him  fall.  He  was  overloaded  for  such 
a stripling,”  said  the  doctor,  with  his  dry  smile,  while 
Standish,  hastily  pulling  a flask  from  his  pocket,  said,  — 
“ Here  is  some  well-approved  Hollands  gin,  Mistress 
Priscilla ; and  I would  advise  a good  draught  as  soon  as 
may  be,  and  have  it  heated  if  it  may  be.” 

“ Here,  hand  it  me.  I will  go  and  give  my  friend 
Joseph  a rating  for  undertaking  tasks  beyond  his 
strength,  though  belike  the  fault  was  none  of  his ! ” 
And  the  doctor  seizing  the  flask  strode  down  the  hill, 
while  Priscilla  lingered  to  ask,  — 

“ How  doth  Mistress  Standish  find  herself  to-day  ? I 
heard  she  was  but  poorly.” 

“ Ay,  poorly  enough,”  replied  the  Captain  with  a 
shadow  chasing  the  smile  from  his  eyes.  “ She  is  hardly 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  TUBS . 


17 


strong  enough  for  these  shrewd  winds  and  rough  adven- 
tures. I had  done  better  to  leave  her  in  England  until 
we  are  established  somewhere.” 

“ There ’s  more  than  one  in  our  company,  I fear  me, 
that  has  adventured  beyond  their  strength,”  replied 
Priscilla  sadly,  as  she  remembered  her  mother’s  hectic 
flush  and  wasting  strength  and  her  brother’s  cough. 

“ A forlorn  hope,  perhaps,  set  to  garrison  this  by-cor- 
ner of  the  world,  but  not  forgotten  by  the  Commander- 
in-chief,  remember  that,  maid  Priscilla,”  said  the  cap- 
tain kindly  and  cheerily.  “ There  in  the  Low  Countries 
our  worst  trouble  was  that  the  home  government  never 
backed  us  as  they  should,  and  more  than  once  we  felt 
we  were  forgot  and  neglected  ; but  in  the  warfare  we 
have  to  wage  here  in  the  wilderness  we  can  never  fear 
that.” 

“ Yet  soldiers  may  die  at  their  post  here  as  well  as 
there,”  said  Priscilla,  turning  to  go  down  the  hill. 

“ So  long  as  the  work  is  done  it  matters  little  what 
becomes  of  the  soldier,”  replied  Myles  briefly,  and  the 
two  rejoined  the  group  around  the  fires. 

Before  nightfall  the  clothes,  dried  and  sweet  with  the 
sunshine  and  pure  air,  were  carefully  folded  into  the 
tubs  and  kettles,  the  dinner  was  neatly  cleared  away, 
and  the  whole  company  in  several  trips  of  the  boats  con- 
veyed on  board,  while  the  carpenters  and  their  volun- 
teer aids  remained  to  work  while  daylight  lasted  upon 
the  pinnace,  the  Pilgrims’  own  craft,  intended  for  ex- 
ploration along  the  shore,  and  for  fishing  when  they 
should  have  made  a settlement. 

But  Joseph  Molines  had  not  shaken  off  his  chill  by 
means  of  the  captain’s  Hollands  gin,  nor  did  his  mother 
or  Rose  Standish  find  themselves  better  in  the  evening 


18 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


than  they  had  been  in  the  morning,  and  as  the  darkness 
of  the  November  night  closed  around  the  lonely  hark, 
gaunt  shadowy  forms,  Disease  and  Famine  and  Death, 
seemed  shaping  themselves  among  the  clouds  and  brood- 
ing menacingly  over  the  Forlorn  Hope,  as  its  soldiers 
slept  or  watched  beneath. 


CHAPTER  H. 


THE  LAUNCH  OF  THE  PINNACE. 

“ Mary  ! Mary  Chilton ! Maid  Mary  mine  ! ” called 
Priscilla  Molines  in  her  clear  bird-voice,  as  she  ran  down 
the  steps  leading  to  the  principal  cabin.  “ Come  on 
deck  and  see  the  launch  of  the  pinnace ! The  carpen- 
ters call  her  fit  for  use  if  not  finished,  and  the  men  have 
gone  ashore  to  launch  her.  Where  art  thou,  poppet ! ” 

“ Here,”  replied  a gentler  and  sweeter  voice,  as  Mary 
Chilton  came  forward,  a long  gray  stocking  dangling 
from  her  hands,  and  stood  in  a slant  ray  of  sunshine 
which  lighted  her  golden  hair  to  a glory,  and  showed  the 
pure  tints  of  her  May-bloom  face  and  clear  blue  eyes ; 
a lovely  English  face  in  its  first  fresh  rapture  of  morn- 
ing beauty. 

“ Right  merrily  will  I come,  Priscilla,  if  there  be  aught 
to  see,”  continued  she,  throwing  down  the  stocking  which 
she  was  knitting  for  her  father.  “ Truly  my  eyes  ache 
with  staring  at  nothingness.” 

“ Well,  there  ’s  a trifle  this  side  of  nothingness  on  the 
beach  at  this  minute,”  retorted  Priscilla,  pinching  her 
friend’s  ear.  “ Men  call  it  Gilbert  Winslow.” 

“ Hush,  hush,  Priscilla ! ” whispered  Mary,  with  a 
scared  look  toward  her  mother’s  cabin.  “ If  anybody 
heard  such  folly ! And  Mistress  White  already  tells 
my  mother  that  we  two  are  ovor-light  in  our  carriage 
and  conversation.” 


20 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Mistress  White  ” — began  Priscilla  sharply,  but 
ended  the  exclamation  with  a saucy  laugh  and  said  in- 
stead, “Yes,  truly  as  thou  sayest,  my  May,  mine  eyes 
ache  with  gazing  upon  nothingness  and  my  tongue  aches 
with  speaking  naught  but  wisdom.  It  is  out  of  nature 
for  young  maids  to  be  as  staid  as  their  elders,  and  me- 
thinks  I do  not  care  to  be.  Let  us  be  young  while  we 
have  youth,  say  I.” 

She  looked  perilously  pretty  as  she  arched  her  brows 
and  pouted  her  ripe  lips,  and  Mary  looked  at  her  in  lov- 
ing admiration,  while  she  answered  sagely,  — 

“ You  and  yours  are  French,  Priscilla,  and  I am  all 
English  like  my  forbears  ; so  thou  mayst  well  be  lighter 
natured  than  I — I mean  no  harm,  dear.” 

“ No  harm  is  done,  dear  mother  in  Israel,”  replied 
Priscilla  half  mockingly,  and  seizing  Mary’s  hand  she 
led  her  on  deck,  where  many  of  the  women  and  children 
were  collected,  watching  the  preparations  on  shore  for 
the  launch  of  the  pinnace,  which,  much  strained  by  bad 
stowage  between  decks,  had  needed  about  a fortnight’s 
work  done  upon  her  before  she  was  fit  for  service. 

“ They  only  wait  for  her  to  set  forth  on  a second  ex- 
ploration,” said  Priscilla  confidentially ; “ and  a little 
bird  sang  in  my  ear  that  they  would  go  to-morrow.” 

“ What  little  bird  ? ” asked  Mary  curiously  ; but  be- 
fore Priscilla  could  reply  another  voice  interposed  ; it  was 
that  of  Bridget  Tilley,  who  had  come  on  deck  to  seek 
her  daughter  Elizabeth,  and  now  sharply  inquired,  — 

“ Another  expedition,  say  you  ? And  my  goodman 
scarce  brought  back  from  death’s  door,  whither  the  first 
jaunt  led  him  ! Nay,  now,  ’t  is  not  right,  ’t  is  all  one  as 
murder,  to  hale  dying  men  out  of  their  beds  and  into 
that  wilderness.  No  blessing  will  follow  such  work,  and 


THE  LAUNCH  OF  THE  PINNACE.  21 


I ’ll  cry  upon  the  governor  or  the  captain  or  the  elder  to 
stop  it ! ” 

“ What  is  it,  Mistress  Tilley  ? Any  wrong  that  I can 
help  set  right  ? ” asked  a sweet  voice,  and  Bridget  turned 
toward  the  speaker  with  a somewhat  more  subdued 
manner,  lowering  her  voice  as  she  said,  — 

“ Thank  you  kindly,  Mistress  Standish,  and  God  ho 
praised  that  you  can  be  on  deck ; but  my  matter  is  this,0 
and  again  she  poured  out  her  anxieties  and  her  fears, 
until  Rose  Standish,  a fair  white  rose  now,  and  trem- 
bling in  the  shrewd  autumn  air  so  soon  to  scatter  her 
petals  and  bear  the  pure  fragrance  of  her  life  down 
through  the  centuries,  until  men  to-day  love  her  whom 
they  never  knew,  leaned  wearily  against  the  bulkhead 
and  said,  — 

“ Rest  easy,  dear  dame.  Thou  ’rt  all  in  the  right, 
and  it  behooves  us  to  protect  our  lords  from  their  own 
rash  courage,  just  as  it  befits  their  courage  to  protect  us 
against  salvages  and  wild  beasts.  I will  whisper  in  my 
husband’s  ear  that  Master  Tilley  is  all  unfit  to  carry  out 
his  own  brave  impulses,  and  I will  conspire  with  Mis- 
tress Carver  and  Mistress  Bradford,  and,  above  all,  with 
our  dear  mother,  the  elder’s  wife,  that  each  shall  make 
petition  to  her  lord  to  see  that  no  sick  or  overborne 
man  be  allowed  to  adventure  himself  on  the  expedition. 
Will  that  satisfy  thee,  dame  ? ” 

“ Right  well,  and  you  are  all  one  with  the  saints  we 
used  to  honor,  though  we  do  know  better  now.” 

u ’T  is  the  most  comfortable  promise  I ’ve  heard  in 
many  a day,  dear  Mistress  Standish,”  cried  Priscilla 
vivaciously.  “ And  well  do  I believe  that  the  whispers 
of  the  wives  are  more  weighty  than  the  shouts  of  the 
husbands.  I ’ve  never  proved  it  myself,  being  but  a 


22 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


maid  ; yet  I have  ere  now  marked  how  the  prancing  of 
the  noblest  steed  is  full  deftly  checked  by  a silken  rein.” 
“ It  were  well  if  a rein  were  put  upon  thy  tongue, 
girl,”  severely  interposed  a comely  matron  sitting  near. 
u Thou  ’rt  over  forward  for  thy  years,  Priscilla.  Shame- 
fastness  and  meekness  become  a maid,  and  when  thou 
knowest  more  thou  It  say  less.” 

“ Thanks,  Mistress  White,  I will  try  to  profit  by  your 
discourse,”  replied  Priscilla  demurely ; but  her  tone  did 
not  satisfy  the  matron,  who  sharply  rejoined,  — 

“ See  that  thou  do,  Mistress  Malapert,  or  I ’ll  ask  the 
elder  to  deal  with  thee.  Here  he  is  now.” 

And,  in  fact,  Elder  Brewster,  who  had  caught  the  tone 
of  Mistress  White’s  voice,  drew  near  to  the  group,  saying 
pleasantly,  “ A goodly  sight  yonder,  is  it  not  ? And 
how  well  our  strong  fellows  set  their  shoulders  to  the 
toil ! What  shall  we  call  the  pinnace  when  she  is 
launched,  Mistress  White  ? ” 

“Methinks  Discretion  would  be  a good  name,  Elder,” 
replied  the  lady  with  a glance  at  the  two  girls.  “ Surely, 
we  have  room  for  it  in  our  company.” 

“ Truth,  my  daughter,  and  yet  to  my  mind  Charity  is 
a sweeter  name,  and  one  more  likely  to  float  us  over 
troubled  waters.”  And  the  elder’s  pleasant  smile  dis- 
armed his  words  of  all  sting.  “ Priscilla,”  continued 
he,  turning  to  the  girl,  “ I hear  that  thy  father  keeps  his 
bed  to-day,  and  thy  mother  is  but  poorly.” 

“ Indeed,  sir,  they  are  both  in  evil  case,”  replied  Pris- 
cilla sadly.  “ Neither  of  them  has  stomach  for  such  food 
as  is  at  hand,  and  so  they  weaken  daily.  John  Alden 
shot  some  little  birds  yesterday,  and  I made  broth  of 
them,  but,  saving  that,  my  mother  has  taken  no  meat  for 
days.’*’ 


THE  LAUNCH  OF  THE  PINNACE.  23 


“ I will  go  and  visit  said  the  elder,  and  forget- 

ting the  launch  he  had  come  up  to  see,  he  went  at  once. 

“ See ! See  ! There  she  goes ! ” cried  Elizabeth  Til- 
ley, as  the  great  boat  slid  gracefully  down  her  ways  to 
the  water,  dipped  her  bows  deeply,  and  finding  hef 
level  rode  upon  an  even  keel. 

“ There  she  goes  ! ” echoed  Constance  Hopkins  and 
Remember  Allerton,  who  with  Elizabeth  Tilley  consti- 
tuted what  may  be  called  the  rosebud  division  of  tb^ 
Pilgrim  girls,  all  glowing  in  the  freshness  of  early  youth, 
all  comely,  strong,  and  vivacious.  Priscilla  Molines  and 
Mary  Chilton  with  Desire  Minter,  a distant  relative  and 
charge  of  Governor  Carver’s,  made  another  little  group 
of  older  girls,  and  then  came  the  young  matrons  of  whom 
there  were  many,  while  Mistress  Brewster  in  the  dignity 
of  middle  life  was  the  recognized  head  and  guide  of  alL 
“ Yes,  there  she  goes,”  cried  Priscilla,  clapping  her 
hands  and  dancing  upon  her  slender  feet.  “ And  Mary,” 
continued  she,  dropping  her  voice  to  a whisper,  “ it  was 
Captain  Standish  who  gave  that  last  mighty  shove  ” — 

“ Nay,  it  was  John  Alden,”  interrupted  Mary  inno- 
cently. 

“ I tell  thee,  girl,  it  was  the  captain.  John  Alden 
is  ever  at  his  elbow  and  striving  to  imitate  him,  but 
our  captain  is  still  the  leader,  and  I do  honour  a man 
who  can  think  as  well  as  do,  and  act  as  well  as  talk. 
Of  talkers  we  have  enow,  the  dear  knows ; Master  Wins- 
low and  Master  Allerton  can  so  argue  that  they  would 
force  you  to  swear  black  was  white  and  the  moon  a 
good  Dutch  cheese  an  they  chose,  and  they  can  lay  out 
work  marvelously  well  for  others  to  carry  out,  but  I 
mark  that  their  own  hands  abide  in  their  pockets  for  the 
most  part.  Then  there  are  plenty  of  strong  arms  with 


24 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISR. 


no  head-pieces,  like  John  Alden  and  your  good  friend 
Gilbert  Winslow  and  John  Howland  and  ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  Priscilla,  thou  shalt  not  wrong  good  men 
so,”  interrupted  Mary,  her  fair  face  coloring  a little. 
“ The  leaders  aye  must  lead,  and  the  younger  and  sim- 
pler aye  must  follow  in  every  community,  and  I mark 
not  that  those  you  flout  for  speaking  so  well  fail  of  their 
share  in  the  labor,  nor  do  I think  John  Alden  or  the 
rest  would  do  well  to  thrust  their  advice  upon  their  bet- 
ters. At  all  rates,  yon  boat  had  not  slid  down  so  mer- 
rily if  John  Alden  had  not  put  his  shoulder  to  the 
work.” 

“Yea,  put  his  shoulder  where  the  captain  laid  his 
hand,”  retorted  Priscilla  with  her  mocking  laugh,  and 
then  putting  her  arm  around  Mary’s  shoulders,  she 
added  affectionately,  — 

“ What  a wise  little  woman  thou  art,  ever  looking  at 
both  sides  of  the  matter  while  I see  but  one ! And  in 
truth,  perhaps,  it  is  better  that  there  be  these  varied  ex- 
cellences, so  that  all  comers  may  be  suited,  just  as  thou 
art  fond  of  porridge  while  I would  liefer  have  soup.” 

“ And  art  a rare  hand  at  compounding  it,”  replied 
Mary  admiringly.  “ How  Desire  Minter  smacked  her 
lips  over  the  dish  thou  gavest  her  the  other  day.” 

“ That  poor  Desiree,  as  my  gossip  Jeanne  Dela  Noye 
used  to  call  her ! I like  well  to  give  her  some  tasty  bit, 
for  it  makes  her  so  happy  at  so  little  trouble  to  myself, 
since  I am  ever  cooking.” 

“ Dost  thou  really  like  cooking,  Priscilla ; or  dost  thou 
do  it  because  thou  ought,  as  I do  ? ” asked  Maiy,  who 
hated  the  culinary  art,  and  yet  was  called  upon  to  prac- 
tice it,  as  were  all  young  women  of  the  day. 

“ Oh,  I love  it,”  replied  Priscilla,  with  enthusiasm. 


THE  LAUNCH  OF  THE  PINNACE. 


25 


u My  mother  and  my  grandmother  and  all  my  aunts 
were  notable  cooks,  and  in  the  good  old  days  in  France 
before  I was  born,  they  say  my  grandmother’s  pates 
and  conserves  and  ragouts  were  famous  all  through 
Lyons,  where  my  grandfather  and  his  father  before 
him  were  great  silk  manufacturers  with  plenty  of  men 
and  maids  and  money  at  their  command.” 

u Ah,  Priscilla,  thou  ’rt  hankering  after  the  flesh-pots 
again  ! Remember  Lot’s  wife  ! ” and  Mary  laughed, 
but  gently  stole  a hand  into  that  of  Priscilla,  who 
pressed  it  tenderly  as  she  replied,  — 

“ Lot’s  wife  spoiled  all  her  cookery  with  salt,  and  I ’ll 
at  least  distill  none  from  mine  own  eyes.  How  shall  I 
make  Robert  Cartier  know  that  I want  him  to  come 
aboard  and  help  me  with  my  father’s  supper  ? ” 

“ Beckon  to  John  Alden  to  send  him,”  retorted  Mary 
promptly.  Priscilla  turned  and  fixed  her  long  dark 
eyes  in  mock  bewilderment  upon  the  other’s  face. 

“ And  why  is  it  easier  to  beckon  to  John  Alden  than 
to  Robert  Cartier,  thou  foolish  girl  ? ” asked  she. 

“ Because  Robert  is  only  thy  father’s  servant,  and 
John  is  thine  own  and  ever  waiting  thy  command,”  re- 
plied Mary  demurely,  and  Priscilla’s  rich  color  mounted 
to  her  brow  as  she  laughingly  retorted,  — 

“Now,  maid  Mary,  that  quip  was  more  like  me  than 
thee,  and  I ’ll  have  none  of  it.  ’T  is  for  thee  to  carry 
the  honey-bag  to  mollify  the  stings  my  naughty  tongue 
must  aye  inflict.  I would  I were  not  so  waspish,  Mary 
mine  ! ” 

“ Thou  ’rt  naught  but  what  is  dear  and  lovely,  and  I 
care  for  thee  beyond  any  man  that  ever  walked,  saving 
my  father,”  cried  Mary,  pressing  close  to  her  friend’s 
side. 


26 


ST  AN  DISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Then  will  I be  jealous  of  Master  Chilton,”  mur- 
mured Priscilla,  the  teasing  mood  again  rising  to  the 
surface.  “ For  I ’ll  have  no  rival  in  thy  heart,  save 
only  Gilbert  Winslow,  whom  I hope  not  to  oust,” 

66  See,  there  is  John  Alden  steadfastly  regarding  us,” 
cried  Mary,  a little  annoyed.  “ Point  thy  finger  at 
Robert  as  he  stands  staring  at  the  boat,  and  then 
beckon.  My  word  for  it,  John  will  read  the  signal 
aright.” 

“ Why,  then,  so  be  it,  and  if  Dame  White  sees  me 
I ’ll  swear  ’t  was  thee,  Mary,”  and  Priscilla  half 
proudly,  half  shyly  made  the  signal,  which  was  at  once 
understood  and  acted  upon  by  Alden,  who,  truth  to  tell, 
seldom  lost  sight  of  Priscilla  when  in  her  company. 
Cartier  receiving  the  message  waded  after  a boat  just 
leaving  the  beach,  and  came  aboard  dripping  wet,  an  im- 
prudence so  common  among  the  younger  men  of  the 
Pilgrims  on  that  flat  coast  as  to  become  a serious  factor 
in  the  terrible  mortality  which  was  to  sweep  off  half 
their  number  within  a few  months. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  SWORD  OF  STANDISH. 

The  “ little  bird,”  probably  John  Alden,  constant 
companion  of  Standish,  had  sung  truly  in  Priscilla’s  ear 
of  a second  exploring  party  about  to  leave  the  May- 
flower in  quest  of  a favorable  site  for  the  town  and  col- 
ony the  Pilgrims  had  come  forth  to  found. 

To  this  step  they  were  urged  not  only  by  their  own 
wishes,  but  by  the  importunities  of  Captain  Jones,  who 
having  obeyed  his  Dutch  employers  and  brought  his  pas- 
sengers to  a point  well  removed  from  the  Virginian  or 
Manhattan  shores  whereon  they  intended  to  land,  was 
now  only  desirous  to  put  them  ashore  almost  anywhere, 
and  make  sail  for  England  while  the  winter  storms  held 
off  and  his  provisions  lasted.  His  own  interest,  there- 
fore, made  him  zealous  in  the  Pilgrims’  service,  and  so 
heartily  had  he  offered  his  men,  boats,  and  provisions  for 
the  expedition  that  the  Pilgrims  had  made  him  its  leader, 
some  of  them  still  believing  in  his  honesty  and  friendli- 
ness, and  some  others  feeling  that  the  surest  way  to  effect 
their  plans  was  to  induce  the  surly  commander  to  make 
them  his  own.  The  event  proved  their  shrewdness,  for 
Jones  accepted  the  appointment  with  great  satisfaction, 
and  told  off  ten  of  his  best  seamen  to  add  to  the  four-and- 
twenty  sound  men  who  were  nearly  all  that  the  Pilgrims 
could  muster,  since,  thanks  to  the  secret  councils  of  Rose 
Standish  and  her  associates,  all  sick  or  weakly  candidates 
were  weeded  out  from  the  volunteers,  and  the  Tilley 


28 


STANDISH  OF  STANDI  SH. 


brothers,  William  Molines,  James  Chilton,  William 
White,  and  several  others  were  kindly  bidden  to  remain 
on  board  and  nurse  their  strength  for  the  next  expedi* 
tion. 

About  noon  the  tide  serving,  the  four-and-thirty  ad- 
venturers, divided  between  the  ship’s  long-boat  and 
their  own  pinnace,  took  the  sea  in  teeth  of  a freezing 
northeasterly  gale,  and  under  low-lying  clouds  whose 
gray  bosoms  teemed  with  snow  and  sleet. 

Thomas  English,  a mariner  engaged  as  master  of  the 
shallop,  held  the  helm,  while  as  many  willing  hands  as 
could  grasp  the  oars  pulled  lustily  in  the  direction  of 
what  is  now  called  the  Pamet  River,  a stream  discov- 
ered some  days  previously  by  a foot  expedition  under 
charge  of  Standi sh,  and  considered  as  a possible  seat  for 
their  colony.  The  crowded  state  of  the  boats  and  the 
head  wind  rendered  the  sails  useless,  and  oars  proved 
inefficient  to  propel  so  large  a boat  as  the  pinnace,  while 
the  sea,  rapidly  rising  with  the  rising  wind,  broke  so 
dangerously  over  the  quarter  that  English  refused  to 
proceed,  and  it  was  hastily  resolved  to  run  into  what  is 
now  called  East  Harbor,  land  the  passengers,  and  allow 
the  long-boat  to  return  to  the  ship,  while  the  pinnace 
lay  to  until  the  gale  moderated.  This  was  done,  but 
owing  to  the  shoals,  the  men  were  obliged  to  wade  knee- 
deep  to  reach  land,  and  the  cold  was  now  so  intense  that 
their  clothes  froze  upon  them  as  they  resumed  their 
journey  on  foot.  Well  may  we  believe  what  William 
Bradford  later  said  : “ Some  of  our  people  who  are 
dead  took  the  original  of  their  death  on  that  day.” 

Marching  six  or  seven  miles  on  foot,  the  party  en- 
camped, building  a barricade,  or  as  they  called  it  a “ ran- 
devous,”  of  pine  boughs  to  protect  them  from  savage 


THE  SWORD  OF  STANDI SH. 


29 


beasts  or  men,  and  within  it  kindling  a fire  beside  which 
they  sat  down  to  eat  such  provisions  as  they  had 
brought,  and  to  solace  themselves  with  modest  draughts 
of  the  strong  waters  they  used  hut  not  abused. 

The  next  day  the  exploration  was  continued  both  by 
sea  and  land,  the  hardy  adventurers  marching  through 
snow  six  inches  deep,  or  upon  the  loose  sands  of  the 
beach  where  the  wind  flogged  them  with  lashes  of  icy 
spray  and  stinging  shards.  In  passing  through  a belt 
of  woods  traces  of  human  presence  were  to  be  seen,  es- 
pecially certain  young  trees  bent  down  and  their  tops 
made  fast  to  the  earth.  Stepping  aside  to  examine  one 
of  these,  William  Bradford  suddenly  found  his  leg  in- 
closed in  a noose,  while  the  tree,  released  and  springing 
upward,  would  have  carried  him  ignominiously  with  it 
had  not  he  seized  the  trunk  of  another  sapling,  and  lus- 
tily shouted  for  help.  His  comrades  came  running 
back,  and  not  without  laughter  and  some  grim  pleasan- 
tries released  him.  Stephen  Hopkins  alone  understood 
the  trap,  and  cutting  from  it  a piece  of  smooth  fine  cord 
twisted  of  wood  fibres  handed  it  to  Bradford,  saying,  — - 

“ Here,  man,  keep  it  by  way  of  horn-book  to  teach 
thee  wood-lore  in  these  salvage  countries.  It  is  the 
moral  of  what  we  used  to  see  among  the  Bermoothes 
some  ten  years  gone  by.  Ay,  and  the  traps  too.  I ’ve 
seen  many  a wild  thing,  deer  or  what  not,  jerked  up  by 
the  leg  and  hanging  from  a tree  like  Absalom,  until  its 
master  came  along  to  cut  its  throat  and  dress  it,  as  it 
hung.” 

“ Glad  am  I that  no  such  master  came  to  release  me,” 
said  Bradford  laughing  ruefully  as  he  rubbed  his  leg 
and  limped  along. 

“ So  thou  wert  in  the  Bermudas,  Hopkins  ? ” asked 


30 


STANDfSFT  OF  STANDISE. 


Standish  who  was  of  the  walking  party ; “ wast  bucca- 
neering ? ” 

“ Nay,  Captain,  all  men  do  not  follow  thy  trade,”  re- 
plied Hopkins  with  his  boisterous  laugh.  “ Mine  was 
quite  another  office,  for  I was  lay-reader  to  Parson 
Buck,  and  he  was  chaplain  to  Gates  who  was  to  be  gov- 
ernor of  a Virginia  colony  an’  he  could  have  reached 
it.  But  like  our  own  adventure  it  miscarried,  and  we 
were  wrecked  on  the  Bermoothes.  We  abode  there  six 
months,  and  the  Indians  showed  us  how  to  trap  deer 
just  as  Bradford  was  trapped  but  now,  ho,  ho  ! ” 

“ Lay-reader  wast  thou  ? ” asked  Standish  surveying 
the  burly  veteran  with  whimsical  interest.  “ Well,  now, 
I ’d  never  take  thee  for  a parson’s  lieutenant,  Hopkins  ! 
I can  hardly  fancy  thee  meek  and  mild  with  bands 
under  that  unkempt  beard,  and  a gown  over  thy  buff 
jacket.  Wert  meek  and  mild  in  those  days,  Hopkins, 
and  thy  tongue,  was ’t  innocent  of  strange  oaths  ? ” 

“ A truce  to  thy  jibes,  master  Captain,”  retorted  Hop- 
kins not  half  pleased  at  receiving  the  jests  he  so  freely 
offered.  “ If  thou  didst  but  know,  my  voice  was  more 
for  war  than  peace,  sith  it  seemed  to  me  then  even  as 
it  did  before  we  landed  here,  that  an  expedition  gone 
astray  is  an  expedition  ended,  and  that  all  compacts 
cease  when  their  conditions  cannot  be  fulfilled.  We 
shipped  to  go  to  Virginia,  and  Gates  was  to  be  our  gov- 
ernor ; well  and  good,  but  here  we  were  wrecked  on 
Bermuda,  and  my  rede  was  that  every  man  was  thus  re- 
leased from  his  promises  and  free  to  set  forth  anew  for 
himself.” 

“ So  ! Yonder  threatening  on  the  Mayflower  was  not 
thy  first  experience  in  raising  sedition  and  discontent, 
and  trying  to  turn  a God-fearing  community  into  a nest 


THE  SWGRD  OF  STANDISff.  31 

of  pirates  ! ” exclaimed  Standish  scornfully.  a Well, 
what  came  of  it  in  that  instance  ? ” 

“ Why,  Gates  called  a court-martial,  tried  me  for 
treason  by  an  authority  I denied,  and  sentenced  me  to 
death.,, 

“ Ay,  and  what  then  ? ” 

“ Then  Parson  Buck  who  could  ill  spare  me,  since  I 
writ  half  his  discourses,  and  the  admiral  who  would 
not  see  murder  done  under  cloak  of  law,  they  went 
to  Gates  and  so  wrought  upon  his  temper  that  he  set 
me  free  and  bade  me  begone,  and  I went  right  mer- 
rily*” 

“ Thou  mindst  me  of  an  officer  under  me,  down 
there  by  Utrecht,”  said  Standish  meditatively.  “ He, 
too,  was  for  setting  up  every  man  for  himself  in  the 
plunder  of  a village  we  had  taken,  and  I had  given  or- 
ders about.” 

“ And  what  became  of  him  ? 99  asked  Hopkins,  as  the 
captain  seemed  to  have  finished. 

“ Oh,  there  was  no  parson  just  there  to  make  use  of 
him,  and  no  admiral  to  judge  about  my  authority,  and 
he  was  shot,”  replied  Standish  quietly.  Hopkins 
scowled  and  laid  his  hand  upon  his  sword  hilt,  but 
Bradford,  who  had  listened  with  both  interest  and 
amusement  to  the  conversation,  deftly  interposed  with 
some  question  about  the  route,  and  Hopkins,  who 
prided  himself  upon  his  wood-lore,  took  the  lead,  and 
conducted  the  party  by  the  easiest  route  to  the  spot 
where  they  would  rejoin  their  brethren  of  the  boat. 

The  Pamet  River,  reached  at  length,  proved  unsatis- 
factory for  a settlement,  but  at  its  mouth  were  found 
sundry  matters  of  interest,  — the  remains  of  a palisade 
formed  apparently  by  civilized  hands,  the  ruins  of  a log- 


82 


ST  AN  DISH  OF  STANDISH. 


hut,  quite  different  from  the  wigwams  of  the  savages, 
and  a large  mound  wdiich  when  opened  proved  full  of 
Indian  corn,  some  shelled,  some  on  the  ear,  the  yellow 
kernels  variegated  with  red  and  blue  ones,  like  the 
maize  still  grown  in  that  vicinity.  The  snow  upon  the 
ground  would  have  concealed  this  “barn,”  as  rustic 
John  Rigdale  called  it,  had  not  the  previous  expedition 
noted  and  marked  it,  and  the  ground  was  so  hard  frozen 
that  it  must  be  hewed  with  the  stout  cutlasses  and  axes 
of  the  Pilgrims,  and  the  clods  pried  up  with  levers. 
Standish  drew  his  sword  with  the  rest,  but  after  watch- 
ing for  a moment  thrust  it  back  into  the  sheath,  saying 
to  Alden  who  as  usual  was  close  beside  him,  — 

“ Nay,  I 'll  none  of  it ! What  mine  own  thews  and 
sinews  may  compass,  I '11  undertake  right  joyfully,  but 
I 'll  never  ask  Gideon  to  risk  his  edge  or  his  backbone 
in  such  rude  labors  as  yon.  Every  man  to  his  trade, 
and  these  are  the  sappers  and  miners  with  whom  he  has 
no  concern.” 

“Is  Gideon  the  name  of  your  sword  then,  Master?  ” 
asked  Alden  half  timidly,  for  Standish  had  the  habit  of 
command  and  was  impatient  of  much  questioning. 

Alden  however  was  a favorite,  and  the  captain,  like  a 
lover,  was  won  by  the  admiring  glance  the  young  man 
threw  at  the  sword,  as  its  owner  unsheathed  it  and  laid 
the  blade  fondly  across  his  palm. 

“ Why  ay,”  replied  he  smiling  down  at  it,  * I have 
christened  him  so  ; but  methinks,  like  other  converts,  he 
finds  the  new  name  sit  uneasily  at  times,  and  would  fain 
hear  the  old  one.” 

“ And  what  might  that  be  ? ” 

“ Ah,  that  is  what  no  man  alive  can  tell.  He  who 
forged  it  of  that  rare  metal  which  now  and  again  falls 


THE  SWORD  OF  ST  AN  DISH. 


33 


from  the  skies,  and  he  who  first  wielded  and  named  it, 
have  lain  in  the  dust  well  nigh  a thousand  years,  if  old 
tales  be  true.” 

“ A thousand  years  ! But  what  is  its  story,  — if  you 
will  tell  it,  Master  Standish?”  and  the  young  man’s 
face  grew  bright  with  excitement  as  he  glanced  from  the 
soldier’s  face  to  the  blade  glittering  across  his  palm,  and 
seeming  to  laugh  in  the  wintry  sunshine. 

“ Well,  it  was  an  old  armorer  in  Ghent  for  whom  I 
had  done  some  service  in  protecting  his  daughter  and 
saving  some  mails  which  my  men  would  have  plun- 
dered, and  the  old  man  was  more  grateful  than  need 
be,  and  came  one  night  to  my  lodgings  bringing  this 
sword  wrapped  in  his  mantle,  to  offer  me  as  a gift,  for 
he  said  he  would  not  sell  it,  valuing  it  above  all  price.” 

“ And  still  you  would  have  him  take  a price,”  sug- 
gested Alden  exultantly,  but  Standish  answered  gen- 
tly,— 

“ Nay,  John,  that  is  but  poor  pride  that  cannot  allow 
another  to  be  its  benefactor.  I took  the  old  man’s  gift 
and  thanked  him  heartily.  Later  on,  as  chance  befell, 
I did  him  a good  turn  in  a contract  for  arms,  while  he 
knew  it  not.  But  that  is  beside  the  matter,  which  is 
the  sword.  He  told  me,  that  old  man  did,  a story  fit  to 
set  in  the  ancient  romaunts  of  chivalry,  how  he  as  a 
young  fellow  full  of  heart  and  lustihood  went  out  to 
fight  the  Turks  or  some  other  heathen  of  those  parts, 
and  was  a prisoner,  and  a lady  loved  him  and  he  loved 
her  not,  having  a sweetheart  waiting  for  him  at  home. 
And  she  had  a noble  heart  and  forgave  him  his  despite, 
and  set  him  free  at  risk  of  her  own  life,  nor  gave  him 
freedom  only,  but  a purse  of  gold  and  this  sword,  which 
she  averred  had  been  captured  from  the  Persian  people 


34 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


hundreds  of  years  before,  and  was  a true  Damascus 
blade  forged  from  meteor  iron,  and  of  the  curious  tem- 
pering now  forgotten.  And  she  said,  moreover,  that 
there  was  a charm  upon  it  that  made  him  who  carried 
it  invincible  and  scathless,  and  she,  poor  maid,  had 
robbed  her  father’s  house  of  this  great  treasure,  and 
brought  it  to  him  who  loved  another  woman  better  than 
her,  and  so  with  tears  and  smiles  she  gave  it  over,  and 
he  for  very  ruth  gave  her  a tender  kiss,  and  thus  they 
parted.” 

“ Nay,  I pity  her  not.  She  was  overbold  to  offer  her 
love  before  it  had  been  asked,”  said  Alden  hastily. 

“ Ah,  boy,  thou  ’rt  in  all  the  hardness  of  thy  callow 
youth,  and  nought’s  more  hard.  Wait  some  fifteen 
years  till  thou  comest  to  my  age,  and  thou  ’It  pity  the 
poor  heathen  maid  as  I do  to-day.  Well,  my  armorer 
took  the  sword  and  played  it  some  forty  years  or  more, 
and  then,  too  old  to  wield  arms,  he  took  to  dealing  in 
them,  but  never  sold  this,  for  it  had  proved  all  that  the 
lady  claimed  for  it,  and  had  slain  his  enemies,  and 
fended  his  friends,  and  saved  his  own  head  more  times 
than  he  could  number,  and  now  he  gave  it  to  me  who 
had,  he  said,  saved  more  than  his  life.” 

“ And  these  outlandish  signs  and  marks  upon  the 
blade  ? ” asked  Alden,  peering  down  at  the  sword. 

“ There,  now,  thou  cailest  for  another  tale,”  replied 
Standish  smiling  good-naturedly.  u But  as  they  seem 
to  need  us  not  in  disemboweling  yon  granary,  and  here 
we  are  guard  against  surprise  from  whoever  may  rightly 
own  the  treasure  and  come  to  claim  it,  I will  e’en  tell 
thee  the  rest. 

“ Thou  knowest  Pastor  Robinson  of  Leyden,  though 
thou  wast  never  out  of  England  thyself  ? ” 


THE  SWORD  OF  STANDI SH.  35 

“ I know  his  fame  as  a pious  teacher  and  a learned 
man,  well  beloved  of  his  people.” 

“ Beloved  ? Ay,  none  more  so,”  exclaimed  Standish 
heartily.  “ I ever  wished  I might  see  him  in  some 
great  peril  and  prove  my  love  by  cutting  down  a round 
dozen  of  his  foes.  And  learned ! Why,  man,  he  dis- 
puted with  the  most  learned  among  their  Dutch  scholars 
openly  in  the  big  church,  and  left  them  not  a leg  to 
stand  on,  or  a tongue  to  wag.  Why,  ’t  is  no  more  to  him 
to  read  Hebrew  than  for  me  to  spell  out  my  Bible.  So 
then,  knowing  his  learning  and  his  love  of  all  that  is  old 
and  curious,  I one  day  showed  him  my  sword  and 
asked  if  he  could  rede  me  fairly  the  mystical  texts  or 
whatever  they  might  be  upon  the  blade.  But  mind 
thee  I said  naught  to  him  of  any  charm  or  amulet 
about  it,  lest  I might  wound  his  conscience,  which  is 
tender  as  a maid’s.  Thou  shouldst  have  seen  the  dear 
old  man,  barnacles  on  nose,  peering  and  peeping  and 
muttering  over  the  queer  device,  all  at  one  as  he 
were  a wizard  himself  and  working  some  spell.  But 
at  the  last  he  heaved  a mighty  sigh,  and  gave  me 
back  the  sword  saying,  nay,  he  could  not  make  out 
more  than  that  there  were  two  legends  in  two  different 
tongues  and  by  different  hands,  and  that  the  effigies 
of  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars  pointed,  he  feared,  to 
idolatrous  emblems,  and  were  not  such  as  a Christian 
man  might  safely  deal  withal.  So  I asked  him  would 
it  be  better  should  I have  the  Holy  Rood  wrought 
above  them  as  did  the  Crusaders  of  old,  and  beshrew 
me,  but  this  device  seemed  to  please  him  less  than  the 
other.” 

“ Nay,  our  teachers  like  not  the  look  of  the  Cross,  nor 
use  it  as  our  fathers  used.  It  savoreth  of  Popery,  they 


36 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


gay,”  interposed  Alden  glancing  at  the  captain’s  face 
for  sure  approval,  but  to  his  surprise  he  saw  it  overcast 
and  frowning. 

“ Thou  knowest,”  replied  he  a little  haughtily,  “ that  I 
am  not  of  the  Separatist  Church,  nor  agree  in  all  its 
teachings.  The  Standishes  were  ever  good  Catholics, 
since  they  came  over  from  Normandy  with  William  the 
Baseborn,  and  if  I hold  not  to  the  religion  of  my  fa- 
thers I accept  no  other,  nor  can  I ever  esteem  lightly 
those  things  my  mother  venerated.” 

The  younger  man,  perplexed  and  mortified,  remained 
silent,  but  in  a moment  Standish  smiled  and  resumed 
his  story. 

“ So,  Pastor  Robinson  confessed  his  own  want  of  skill, 
as  so  wise  a man  need  not  shame  to  do,  but  told  me  of  a 
certain  aged  scholar  in  Amsterdam,  well  versed  in  East- 
ern lore,  and  able,  if  any  man  alive  could  do  it,  to  rede 
me  the  riddle  aright,  and  he  wrote  down  his  name  and 
lodging  and  a line  to  recommend  me  to  his  kindly  at- 
tention, and  so  gave  me  fair  good-night. 

“ Not  long  after,  my  occasions  called  me  to  Amster- 
dam, and  be  sure  I took  the  time  to  find  the  old  ancient 
scholar,  a queer,  dried-up  graybeard,  with  skin  like  the 
parchment  covers  of  his  folios  ; but  he  gave  me  cour- 
teous welcome,  and  I laid  the  sword  upon  the  table  under 
his  nose.  Faith,  John,  I thought  that  same  nose  would 
grow  to  my  blade,  for  a good  half  hour  passed  away,  or 
ever  he  stirred  or  spoke.  Then  he  looked  askance  at 
me  and  said,  — 

“ 6 How  old  art  thou  in  very  truth  ? ’ ” 

“ I told  him  some  thirty  years,  and  he  stared  and 
stared  until  had  he  been  a young  man  and  a soldier  I 
had  asked  him  his  intent.  But  as  it  was,  I did  but 


THE  SWORD  OF  STAN  DISH 


37 


Btare  back  again,  until  at  the  last  liis  parchment  cheeks 
creased  and  crackled  in  what  may  have  been  meant  for 
a smile,  and  he  said,  — 

44 4 Thou  mightst  have  been  a score  of  thirties  if  thou 
hadst  been  born  when  this  blade  was  forged.’ 

44  4 And  why  ? 9 asked  I,  wondering  if  Pastor  Robinson 
could  have  known  the  man  was  an  old  wizard. 

44  4 Because  there ’s  that  on  this  blade  would  have 
kept  thee  from  all  harm  if  thou  hadst  made  it  thine 
own/  said  he,  tapping  that  circle.” 

And  turning  the  blade,  Standish  showed  upon  the  re* 
verse  from  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  an  ornamented  me- 
dallion close  to  the  hilt,  containing  certain  cabalistic 
signs  and  marks.  Below  this  was  an  inscription  of  sev- 
eral lines  in  totally  different  characters.1 

44  And  that  is  a charm  to  keep  a man  alive  ? ” asked 
Alden  with  bated  breath  and  eager  eyes. 

44  So  that  old  man  said,”  replied  Standish,  44  but  I con- 
cern myself  little  with  such  matters,  having  ever  found 
my  own  right  arm  enough  to  keep  my  head,  and  the 
grace  of  God  better  than  any  heathen  charm.” 

44  And  did  he  read  it,  and  the  rest  ? ” pursued  Alden. 

44  Yes,  he  read  it,  or  at  the  least  he  muttered  something 
in  some  outlandish  gibberish,”  replied  the  captain,  laugh- 
ing a little  shamefacedly.  4 ‘And  he  told  me  its  meaning, 
partly  in  Latin,  for  we  spoke  together  in  that  tongue, 
but  I am  such  a dullard  that  I forgot  the  words  as  soon 
as  he  spoke  them,  and  so  asked  him  to  write  them  down. 
Then  he  fell  a pondering  again,  and  said  like  the  pastor 
that  the  two  inscriptions  differed  in  every  way,  and  he 
must  muse  awhile  and  look  in  his  books  before  he  could 

1 This  sword  may  still  be  seen  in  Pilgrim  Hall,  Plymouth, 
Massachusetts. 


38 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


read  them  fairly,  and  he  asked  me  to  leave  the  sword 
with  him.  So  seeing  him  so  venerable  and  honorable 
a man  I consented,  although  not  willingly,  and  went  my 
way.  The  next  morning  I sought  him  again  not  certain 
but  that  in  the  night  he  and  my  sword  and  the  charm 
had  all  flown  out  of  window  together  and  gone  to  join 
the  Witch  of  Endor.  But  no,  there  he  sat,  and  the 
sword  before  him,  as  if  they  never  had  stirred  since  I 
left.  And  the  old  man  gave  me  a bit  of  parchment  cov- 
ered with  crabbed  Latin  script,  and  told  me  I should  find 
therein  the  sense  of  my  two  inscriptions,  though  there 
were  words  even  he  could  not  decipher.  So  I put  the 
parchment  in  my  pouch,  and  reached  my  hand  to  the 
sword,  when  he  withheld  it  and  said,  — 

“ ‘ This  charm  avails  nothing  for  thee,  my  son,  be- 
cause it  was  not  framed  for  thee,  nor  dost  thou  swear 
by  the  powers  therein  invoked  ; but  I can  frame  one  that 
will  avail,  and  will  protect  thee  from  any  weapon  raised 
against  thee.  I have  learned  somewhat  I never  kne\% 
in  studying  thy  sword,  and  I would  fain  repay  thee  in 
kind.’ 

“ Now  lad,  as  he  spoke,  a certain  terror  seized  me 
lest  I should  be  found  dabbling  in  the  black  art,  and  I 
said,  with  more  than  enough  vehemence,  that  I wanted 
no  charm,  nor  did  I fear  mortal  weapon  or  mortal  foe, 
for  in  God  was  my  trust,  and  He  was  able  to  hold  me 
scathless,  or  to  take  me  when  He  would.  And  then, 
John,  a fancy  seized  me,  a foolish  fancy  of  romance  per- 
haps, but  still  I mind  not  thy  knowing,  so  thou  ’It  not 
babble  of  it  to  others.  I asked  the  old  man  could  he 
put  what  I had  just  said  into  the  same  tongue  with  that 
heathen  charm,  and  so  shape  it  that  I could  have  it 
carved  upon  my  blade  above  the  sun  and  moon  and 


THE  SWORD  OF  STANDISH 


39 


stars,  which  those  Persian  idolaters  worship  and  had 
graved  there  almost  as  idols.  And  he  smiled  again  in 
that  grewsome  fashion  of  his,  and  said  ay  he  could  do 
that  much,  and  that  as  three  possessors  had  already  put 
invocations  to  their  gods  upon  the  blade  it  was  but  fit  I 
should  do  so  in  my  turn. 

“ I liked  not  the  quip,  nor  the  evening  of  a Christian 
man’s  belief  to  idolatrous  worship,  but  yet  the  idea  of 
the  Christian  charm,  if  one  might  call  it  so,  had  taken 
fast  possession  of  my  mind,  and  I felt  as  though  it  were 
snatching  the  good  blade  from  the  powers  of  heathenesse 
and  giving  it  to  God.  So  I put  what  I would  say  in 
few  words,  and  the  old  man  wrought  upon  it  till  he  had 
it  to  his  mind,  and  at  the  last  took  a pencil  dipped  in 
some  wizard’s  ink  or  other  and  drew  these  signs  upon 
the  sword  as  you  see  them,  bidding  me  take  it  to  an  ar- 
morer and  have  them  cut  in  just  as  they  stood.  So  I 
did,  choosing,  you  may  be  sure,  the  armorer  who  had 
given  me  the  sword,  and  showing  him,  as  I have  you, 
that  this  is  no  heathen  charm,  but  the  sign  of  a Christian 
man’s  faith.” 

“ And  what  do  they  mean,  all  three  of  them  ? ” asked 
Alden  reverently.  “I  see  the  figures  1149  graved 
clearly  enough,  but  what  mean  the  other  two  rows  ? ” 

“ My  lad,  thou  seest  wrong.  The  1 and  4 and  9 arc 
but  symbols  of  letters  not  there  set  down,  and  the  whole, 
partly  from  that  same  foolish  fancy  I told  thee  of,  and 
partly  because  the  old  scholar  bade  me  never  tell  it  lest 
some  other  man  should  steal  his  learning,  and  partly  be- 
cause Gideon  hath  kept  the  first  secret  so  many  years 
that  I feel  like  trusting  him  with  another,  for  all  these 
reasons  I promised  myself  and  the  scholar  and  Gideon 
that  I would  never  tell  the  thing  to  mortal  man,  nor  even 


40 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


the  rendering  of  the  other  devices  ; and  lest  I should 
be  tempted  to  forego  my  word,  sith  I claim  to  be  no 
stronger  than  Samson,  or  lest  some  one  should  surprise 
the  secret  unawares,  I cut  the  piece  of  parchment  in  two 
pieces,  and  handed  them  back  to  the  old  scholar,  who 
disguised  not  his  huge  content  thereat.  So  thou  seest, 
John,  two  of  the  three  inscriptions  I could  not  unravel 
to  thee  if  I would,  and  of  the  third  thou  wilt  not  ask 
me,  since  it  is  guarded  by  a promise.” 

“ Surely,  Master,  it  is  not  I who  would  ask  you  to  break 
it,”  said  John  simply.  “ But  the  name  of  Gideon  ? ” 

“ Didst  never  read  of  Gideon  in  Holy  Writ,  John? 
A mighty  soldier  before  the  Lord  who  hewed  down  his 
father’s  idol-grove  and  came  out  from  among  his  own 
people  and  carved  his  own  way  in  the  world.  Ever  as 
I read  his  story,  I mind  me  of  a man  I knew  in  Lanca- 
shire who  went  to  the  house  of  his  fathers  to  claim  what 
was  his  own,  and  when  he  gat  it  not,  he  threw  down  the 
idols  he  had  been  trained  to  worship,  and  shook  off  the 
dust  of  that  idol-grove  where  Mammon  and  Rank  and 
the  world’s  opinion  were  set  up  as  gods,  and  went  out 
into  the  world  to  hew  out  his  own  fortunes  by  the  might 
of  his  own  right  arm,  and  his  trust  in  the  God  of  Israel. 
So  now,  John  Alden,  thou  knowest  more  about  my  good 
sword  than  any  man  alive,  for  I doubt  me  if  the  scholar 
remembereth,  and  the  armorer  is  dead.  And  when  we 
go  into  battle,  if  such  good  luck  await  us,  and  thou 
hearest  me  cry,  The  Sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon ! 
thou  It  know  my  meaning.” 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  LILIES  OF  FRANCE. 

“ Ho  Captain  Standish,  thou  ’rt  wanted  here ! ” cried 
the  coarse  voice  of  Thomas  Jones  as  the  two  men 
approached  the  group  gathered  about  the  corn  heap. 
“ Come  hither  and  teach  these  gentle  maids  the  usages 
of  war.  They  speak  forsooth  of  making  payment  to 
these  unbreeched  salvages  for  the  corn  we  are  taking 
from  this  hole  in  the  ground.  Was  it  the  way  of  your 
bold  fellows  in  Flanders  to  make  payment  to  the  Span- 
iards if  you  surprised  and  sacked  their  camp  ? ” 

“ The  Spaniards  were  our  declared  enemies/’  replied 
Standish  coldly ; “ and  not  only  their  gear  but  their  lives 
were  ours  if  we  could  take  them,  and  so  were  ours  theirs 
an’  they  approved  themselves  the  better  men.  But  here 
it  is  not  so  ; we  have  no  quarrel  as  yet  with  the  sal- 
vages, nor  is  it  wise  to  provoke  one.  We  are  but  a hand- 
ful, and  they  in  their  own  country  of  unknown  strength. 
Besides,  why  should  we  harm  those  who  have  done  us 
no  wrong?  Is  it  not  wiser  to  make  friends  and  allies 
if  we  may  ? So  Master  Jones  you  must  e’en  rank  me 
with  the  gentle  maids  who  speak  for  honesty  and  justice 
in  this  matter.” 

“As  you  will,  it  is  no  concern  of  mine,”  retorted 
Jones  with  a surly  laugh ; “ but  never  before  did  I sail 
in  such  saintly  company,  or  find  bearded  men  with 
swords  at  their  sides  carrying  themselves  like  milk-fed 
babes.” 


42 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH 


“ And  in  sad  seriousness,  good  Master  Jones,  do  you 
intend  to  cast  a slur  upon  our  courage  ? ” demanded 
Standish,  a cold  smile  upon  his  lips,  while  his  right  hand 
toyed  with  Gideon’s  hilt,  and  his  right  foot  planted  itself 
more  firmly. 

“ Nay,  he  ’s  no  such  ass,”  interposed  Hopkins  hastily. 
“ He  did  but  mean  a merry  joke,  and  we  would  have 
you  Captain  Standish  tell  off  such  men  as  had  best 
remain  on  shore  for  further  exploration  while  the  rest 
shall  return  to  the  ship  with  Master  Jones,  who  is  in 
mind  to  go  back  before  night.” 

“ Oh,  he  is  overdone  with  the  work  we  babes  have 
scarce  begun,”  muttered  Standish  with  a wrathful  laugh. 
“ Glad  am  I to  spare  him.” 

“ And  I,”  said  Bradford  joining  them.  “ And  we  are 
all  of  one  mind  that  Captain  Standish  shall  take  command 
of  those  who  remain,  since  the  governor  and  several 
others  find  themselves  but  ailing  and  will  return  with 
Jones,  who  forebodes  foul  weather  and  needs  must  take 
his  men  aboard  to  meet  it.” 

“ Why,  that ’s  no  more  than  his  duty,  and  mayhap  I 
wronged  him,”  said  Standish  generously.  “ Well,  who 
tarries  with  me  ? ” 

The  division  was  soon  made,  and  as  the  boats  left  the 
shore,  beneath  the  same  cold  and  stormy  sky  that  had 
led  them  forth,  and  feebly  breasted  the  hissing  waves 
which  seemed  to  sneer  at  their  puny  efforts,  the  eighteen 
men  who  remained  on  shore  drew  closer  together. 

“Methinks  our  men  are  to  be  sifted  like  Gideon’s 
army  at  Mount  Moreh,”  said  Edward  Winslow  running 
his  eye  over  the  little  group  as  he  linked  his  arm  with 
Bradford’s.  “ They  went  forth  twenty-and-two  hundred 
and  fell  away  to  three  hundred.” 


THE  LILIES  OF  FRANCE. 


43 


“ By  the  three  hundred  who  lap  the  water  with  their 
hands  will  I conquer  Midian,"  quoted  Bradford  in 
clear  and  ringing  voice. 

“ Hear  you  that,  J ohn  ? " asked  Standish  of  the  young 
man  who  followed  him  closely.  “ It  is  a good  omen 
that  the  grand  old  story  should  have  come  into  Wins- 
low's head.  And  now,  men,  my  opinion  is  that  we 
should  strike  inland,  and  see  if  we  cannot  come  upon 
some  settlement  or  stronghold  of  the  natives,  for  certes, 
these  barns  and  graves  were  not  made  without  hands, 
nor  were  the  stubble-fields  reaped  by  ghosts.  The  tract 
lying  north  and  east  of  this  river  is  yet  new  to  us,  and, 
since  you  will  be  led  by  me,  we  will  march  for  some 
hours  hither  and  yon  through  its  length  and  breadth, 
making  our  randevous  where  night  may  overtake  us,  and 
returning  hither  to  meet  the  shallop  to-morrow." 

“ It  is  good  counsel,  and  we  will  follow  you,  Captain," 
said  Winslow,  while  a consenting  murmur  stirred  the 
russet  beards  around,  and  Hopkins  said,  “ He  among  us 
who  best  knows  the  ways  of  woodlands,  and  how  to  steer 
the  plainest  course  through  these  swamps  and  thickets, 
should  be  on  the  lead,  it  seemeth  to  me,  Captain." 

“ Ay,  Hopkins,  I have  thought  of  all  that,"  interrupted 
Standish  rather  curtly ; “ and  I have  chosen  my  scout 
already.  Billington,  where  art  thou,  man  ? " 

“ Here,  Cap  tain,"  responded  a coarse  voice,  and  a man 
whose  mean  and  truculent  face  contrasted  forcibly  with 
those  about  him  pushed  forward  and  stood  before  the 
captain,  who  gave  him  a comprehensive  glance,  noting 
not  only  the  mean  and  bad  face,  but  the  wiry  and  well- 
knit  figure,  and  the  eyes  quick  and  watchful  as  a rat's. 

“ Billington,"  repeated  he  at  last,  “ I 've  noticed  on 
these  expeditions  that  thou  hast  a pretty  knack  at  wood- 


44 


STANDI S II  OF  STANDISH. 


craft,  and  can  smell  thy  way  among  these  bogs  and 
thorny  coppices  with  marvelous  good  judgment.” 

“ I learned  such  woodcraft  and  more  while  I was 
gamekeeper  to  my  Lord  Lovell  in  the  old  country,”  in- 
terrupted Billington  with  an  impudent  grin.  The  cap- 
tain again  regarded  him  with  that  penetrating  glance 
whose  power  is  matter  of  history  and  replied,  — 

“ I suppose  it  was  in  such  service  that  thou  earnest  by 
that  ugly  scar  across  thy  nose.  Thou  hast  never  been  a 
soldier,  well  I wot.” 

“ Thou  ’rt  right,  Captain,”  said  Billington  putting  his 
hand  to  his  face  with  an  unabashed  laugh.  “ It  was  a 
poacher  ” — 

“ Ay,  I thought  it  was  a poacher,”  interrupted  Stan- 
dish  dryly.  “ Well,  master  gamekeeper  Billington,  to- 
day thou  ’rt  under  my  orders,  and  I desire  thee  to  lead 
us  through  this  wood  in  an  easterly  course,  and  to  keep 
a diligent  eye  upon  all  signs  of  occupation  by  the  enemy, 
that  is  to  say,  our  friends  the  salvages.  Be  very  care- 
ful in  this  matter,  an’  please  thee,  good  Billington,  for 
shouldst  thou  think  it  a merry  jest  to  lead  us  into  dan- 
ger of  any  sort,  I fear  me  thou  ’dst  find  it  but  a poor 
bargain  for  thyself.” 

u Nay,  Captain,  the  man  means  no  harm  and  feels 
that  we  are  all  comrades  in  this  matter,”  said  Winslow 
pacifically,  while  Hopkins  muttered  discontentedly,  — 

“ O’er  many  masters  to  my  mmd.” 

Standish  answered  neither,  except  by  a glance  from 
his  penetrating  eyes,  and  Billington  taking  the  lead  the 
little  party  struck  into  the  woods  and  marched  rapidly 
and  in  silence  for  an  hour  or  more,  when  Allerton,  the 
oldest  and  feeblest  man  of  the  party,  suddenly  baited* 
and  called  to  Standish  that  he  must  perforce  rest  for  a 


THE  LILIES  OF  FRANCE . 


45 


few  minutes,  and  was,  moreover,  sadly  athirst.  This 
want  was  immediately  echoed  by  all,  for  the  flasks  at 
every  man’s  belt  contained  spirits  or  strong  beer,  and 
the  toil  of  the  march,  sometimes  in  spite  of  Billing- 
ton’s  skill  through  thickets  whose  thorny  branches  tore 
even  the  armor  from  the  Pilgrims’  backs,  and  sometimes 
through  half  frozen  morasses,  had  induced  a thirst  crav- 
ing plentiful  draughts  of  pure  water. 

“ We  ’ve  passed  neither  spring  nor  runlet  on  our 
course,  for  I ’ve  looked  for  such,”  said  Billington  remov- 
ing his  leather  cap  and  wiping  his  brow  upon  his  sleeve. 
“ And  though ’t  is  frosty  weather,  such  a diligent  march 
as  ours  heats  the  blood  shrewdly.” 

“We  will  halt  beside  this  coppice  for  a space,”  or- 
dered Standish  glancing  at  Allerton’s  pallid  face  ; “ and 
do  thou  search  yonder  hollow,  Billington,  for  water. 
Alden  go  you  with  him,  and  keep  an  eye  on  his  course.” 

The  two  men  thus  detailed  plunged  into  the  little  hol- 
low where  indeed  water  should  have  been,  but  found  only 
a pool  so  shallow  and  so  sheltered  as  to  have  frozen 
quite  solid  ; from  this  they  brought  some  pieces  of  ice 
with  which  Allerton  was  so  revived  as  to  resume  his 
course  for  another  mile  when  he  again  broke  down, 
while  all  the  rest  suffered  so  sensibly  from  thirst  that 
they  could  not  conceal  their  distress.  Another  halt  was 
called,  and  all  the  younger  men  dispersed  in  various  di- 
rections, while  Allerton  lay  stretched  upon  the  ground* 
his  parched  mouth  open,  and  his  eyes  half  closed.  Be- 
side him  stood  Standish,  real  concern  upon  his  usually 
stern  features,  and  in  his  hand  a flask  of  spirits,  from 
which  the  exhausted  and  fevered  man  turned  loathingly. 

“ ’T  is  as  good  schnapps  as  ever  came  through  a 
still,”  said  Standish  wistfully ; “ and  if  thou  couldst 
stomach  it  must  surely  do  thee  good.” 


46 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Water,  water ! ” moaned  Allerton. 

“ Ay,  a little  water  mingled  with  it  were  better  for 
thee  just  now,”  replied  the  Captain  soothingly.  “ But 
sith  water  may  not  be  had  ” — 

“ Ho,  men  ! Water,  water,  a running  brook  ! ” cried 
Alden’s  hearty  voice,  as  he  came  bursting  his  way  through 
the  thicket.  “ A running  brook  and  a deer  drinking  at 
its  spring.” 

“And  why  didst  not  shoot  the  deer  instead  of  halloo- 
ing him  away,  thou  great  idiot  ? ” demanded  Standish  in 
jesting  anger,  while,  with  such  a rush  as  the  animal  sore 
athirst  makes  when  he  scents  the  water  springs,  all  the 
men  but  three  of  the  party  burst  through  the  under- 
growth and  found  themselves  in  a lovely  little  dale  so 
sheltered  by  hills  and  trees  as  to  offer  only  a southern 
exposure  to  the  weather.  The  snow  of  the  previous  day 
had  already  disappeared  from  this  favored  spot,  and  the 
little  runlet  with  its  welling  spring  sparkled  free  from 
frost  among  the  long  grasses,  sweet-gale,  and  low  shrub- 
bery of  the  place  ; among  these  shrubs  more  than  one 
dainty  track  leading  from  the  forest  to  the  runlet  showed 
that  here  the  deer  came  daily  down  to  drink,  and  Alden 
in  his  heart  felt  he  had  done  well  not  to  lift  a hand 
against  the  pretty  creature  he  had  surprised  there.  But 
neither  the  poetic  Bradford,  the  polished  Winslow,  nor 
the  meditative  Howland  paused  any  more  than  their 
brethren  to  note  the  beauty  of  the  spot,  but  one  and  all 
plunging  forward  threw  themselves  upon  their  knees 
thrusting  their  faces  into  the  water,  and  only  pausing  to 
draw  breath  and  drink  again. 

“We  there  drank  our  first  New  England  water,  and 
with  as  much  delight  as  ever  we  drunk  drink  in  all  our 
lives,”  wrote  Bradford  at  a later  day,  and  no  doubt  the 
memory  of  its  refreshment  lasted  all  his  life. 


THE  LILIES  OF  FRANCE. 


47 


All  but  three,  and  these  three  were  Allerton  who 
could  not  go,  Standish  who  would  not  leave  him,  and  Al- 
den  who  would  not  leave  Standish  until  the  latter  said,  — 

“ But  dost  not  see,  John,  that  thou  ’rt  hindering  me 
from  quenching  my  thirst  ? Go  thou  and  bring  thy 
steel  cap  full  of  water  for  Master  Allerton,  and  when  I 
see  him  revived  I ’ll  go  right  gladly  to  lap  water  out  of 
my  hand  among  my  three  hundred.” 

“ You  are  ever  right,  master,”  replied  Alden  briefly, 
and  ran  to  do  as  he  was  bid. 

An  hour’s  rest  and  the  food  they  had  been  unable 
to  swallow  while  athirst,  so  refreshed  the  Pilgrims  that 
even  Allerton  resumed  the  march  with  fresh  courage 
and  pursued  it  steadily  until  Billington,  suddenly  paus- 
ing and  pointing  down  at  a narrow  path  intersecting 
their  own,  said  in  a low  voice  to  Standish  who  came 
close  behind  him,  — 

“ Men’s  feet,  not  beasts.  It  will  lead  belike  to  a vil- 
lage.” 

“ Ay,”  responded  the  captain  briefly.  “ Look  well 
to  your  weapons  men,  and  light  your  matches,  but  let 
no  man  fire  his  piece  without  command.”  And  draw- 
ing his  sword,  Standish  strode  eagerly  forward  close  to 
Billington,  who  with  all  his  faults  was  no  coward,  and 
blithely  blew  his  match  to  a fiery  glow,  while  glancing 
with  his  ferret  eyes  behind  every  tree  and  into  every 
covert  he  passed. 

Nothing,  however,  was  to  be  seen,  and  suddenly  the 
path  came  to  an  end  in  a large  clearing  covered  with 
the  stubble  of  maize  recently  gathered,  while  at  the 
farther  side  stood  several  huts  formed  by  a circle  of 
elastic  poles,  the  butts  thrust  in  the  ground  and  the  tops 
bound  together  leaving  a hole  through  which  the  smoke 


48 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


was  invited  to  escape,  and  sometimes  did  so.  The  out- 
side was  protected  by  heavy  mats  of  skins  or  braided  of 
bark,  while  a more  highly  decorated  one  closed  the  door- 
way. All  were  evidently  deserted,  and  after  some  cau- 
tious advances,  the  captain  leaving  three  men  on  guard 
permitted  the  rest  to  extinguish  their  matches  and  ex- 
plore the  wigwams  so  curious  to  European  eyes  and  so 
familiar  to  our  own. 

The  interior  of  each  showed  a cooking  hearth  or  plat- 
form framed  of  sticks  and  stones,  and  an  assortment  of 
wooden  cooking  utensils  rudely  carved.  Among  these 
the  explorers  noticed  an  English  bucket  without  a bale 
and  a copper  kettle,  both  linking  themselves  in  their 
minds  to  the  traces  of  civilization  already  noted  in  the 
palisades  and  ruined  cabin  near  which  the  store  of  corn 
had  been  found.  Many  baskets,  both  for  use  and  orna- 
ment, were  found,  and  sundry  boxes  curiously  wrought 
with  bits  of  clam  shell,  such  as  were  used  for  wampum, 
and  also  little  crab  shells  and  colored  pebbles,  seemed 
to  show  the  presence  of  women  and  their  proficiency  in 
the  fancy  work  of  their  own  time  and  taste.  Several 
deer  heads,  one  of  them  freshly  killed,  showed  that  the 
inmates  of  the  wigwams  were  not  far  distant,  and  in  a 
hollow  tree  by  way  of  larder  was  hung  the  carcass  of 
a deer,  so  well  ripened  that  even  Hopkins  pronounced 
it  “ fitter  for  dogs  than  men.” 

From  all  these  novelties  and  curiosities  the  Pilgrims 
selected  a few  of  the  prettier  specimens  to  carry  to  their 
comrades  on  board,  formally  promising  each  other,  as 
they  had  in  case  of  the  corn,  to  make  due  payment  to 
the  owners  whenever  they  should  be  found,  a promise 
most  conscientiously  performed  at  a later  day. 

By  the  time  these  matters  were  fully  examined  night 


THE  LILIES  OF  FRANCE. 


49 


was  falling,  and  the  Pilgrims,  strong  in  their  own  good 
intentions  and  also  in  their  weapons,  encamped  a short 
distance  from  the  Indian  village,  and  although  keeping 
diligent  guard  all  night  saw  nor  heard  naught  to  dis- 
turb their  slumbers.  Rousing  betimes  next  morning, 
their  first  attention  was  given  to  prayers,  and  their  next 
to  making  as  good  a breakfast  as  possible  with  the  aid 
of  some  wild  fowl  and  little  birds  shot  during  the  pre- 
vious day’s  march,  and  then  the  “ meat  and  mass  ” 
which  “ hinder  no  man  ” thus  attended  to,  they  set  forth 
in  the  direction  of  the  river  where  they  were  to  be 
picked  up  by  the  shallop.  Toward  noon  this  point  was 
nearly  reached,  in  fact  the  clearing  with  the  European 
cabin  was  close  at  hand,  when  Billington  paused  beside 
a mound  carefully  laid  up  with  a border  of  beach  stones 
and  rounded  high  and  smooth  with  sods,  over  which 
were  laid  hewn  planks  such  as  composed  the  cabin. 

“ It  is  another  store  of  corn  of  choicer  variety,”  de- 
clared he  greedily ; but  Hopkins  shook  his  head. 

“ It  is  the  grave  of  some  great  sachem,  or  haply  from 
these  planks  above  him  it  is  the  grave  of  whoever  built 
yon  cabin  and  palisado.” 

“ Belike  there  is  treasure  of  some  wrecked  vessel 
which  brought  him  hither,  and  which  he  stored  away 
thus,  until  his  rescue,”  said  Rigdale. 

“ Should  not  we  cautiously  open  it,  Captain,  and  cer- 
tify ourselves  what  is  therein  ? ” asked  Bradford.  “ If 
it  prove  a grave  we  can  but  reverently  cover  it  again, 
and  if  it  be  food,  we  need  all  that  we  can  gather  for 
food  and  seed.” 

“Ay,  Master  Bradford,”  replied  Standish  thought- 
fully. “ I like  not  meddling  with  graves  for  despite  or 
for  curiosity,  but  sith  it  much  imports  us  to  understand 


50 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


this  country  where  we  are  to  dwell,  I think  we  may  ex- 
amine this  mound,  and,  as  thou  sayest,  if  it  be  a grave 
of  white  man  or  of  red,  we  will  leave  it  as  honorable  as 
we  find  it.” 

! Permission  thus  given,  swords,  bayonets,  and  hatchets 
were  set  to  work,  and  in  a few  moments,  the  upper  sur- 
face of  sand  and  earth  being  removed,  the  explorers 
came  upon  a large  bow,  strong,  tough,  and  beautifully 
carved  and  pointed. 

“ It  is  a sachem,  and  a mighty  man  of  valor  if  he 
wielded  this  bow  and  shot  these  arrows,”  said  Hopkins 
handling  them  respectfully. 

“ It  seemeth  to  me  like  a white  man’s  touch  in  this 
carving,”  said  Winslow  examining  the  bow. 

“Here  lieth  a goodly  mat,  stained  with  red  and  blue 
in  a fair  pattern,”  said  Bradford  drawing  it  off  the 
grave,  as  it  now  seemed  certain  to  be. 

“ And  what  is  this  ? ” exclaimed  Alden  raising  some- 
thing which  lay  beneath  the  mat.  Brushing  away  the 
mould  that  clung  to  it,  this  proved  to  be  a piece  of  plank 
some  twenty-seven  inches  in  length,  carefully  smoothed 
upon  one  side,  and  painted  with  what  seemed  an  heraldic 
achievement,  while  the  top  was  cut  into  something  of  the 
fashion  of  a crest  consisting  of  three  spikes  or  tines. 

“ It  is  a hatchment  over  a noble’s  grave,”  cried  Stan- 
dish.  “ Say  you  not  so,  Master  Winslow  ? See  you, 
here  is  a shield,  although  I know  not  the  device,  and 
here  is  surely  a crest.” 

“ So  it  beseemeth,  Captain,”  replied  Winslow  cau- 
tiously. “ And  to  my  mind  this  crest  is  a rude  present- 
ment of  the  lilies  of  France.  See  you  now,  Master 
Bradford ! ” 

“Nay,  I know  naught  of  such  toys,”  replied  Bradford 


THE  LILIES  OF  FRANCE . 


51 


sturdily.  “ To  my  mind  it  looketh  as  much  like  Nep- 
tune’s trident  as  aught  else.” 

“ Or  like  a muck-fork,”  suggested  Rigdale  in  his 
broad  Lancashire  dialect,  and  with  a coarse  laugh  re- 
sented by  Standish,  who,  an  aristocrat  to  his  heart’s 
core,  ill  brooked  contempt  of  chivalrous  emblems,  espe- 
cially by  a rustic  of  his  own  shire. 

“Well,  let  us  get  on  with  this  business,”  said  he  per- 
emptorily, and  pulling  away  another  mat  he  disclosed  a 
store  of  bowls,  plates,  dishes,  and  such  matters,  all  new 
and  beautifully  carved  and  decorated. 

“For  the  dead  man  to  cook  and  eat  on  his  journey 
to  the  happy  hunting  grounds,  which  the  salvages  place 
in  the  room  of  heaven,”  said  Hopkins  sanctimoniously. 
Beneath  these  lay  another  mat,  and  beneath  this  a crypt 
carefully  bedded  with  dry  white  sand,  upon  which  lay 
two  packages  carefully  sewn  up  in  sailcloth,  the  one 
more  than  six  feet  in  length,  the  other  barely  three. 

“The  body  of  a man  and  child,”  said  Bradford 
softly,  as  he  helped  to  raise  them  from  their  pure  white 
cell  and  lay  them  upon  the  earth. 

“ Open  them  with  care,  friends,”  said  Standish  uncov- 
ering his  head.  “ It  is  some  white  man  buried  in  such 
honor  as  they  had  knowledge  of  by  those  who  loved  him.” 

The  many  folds  of  canvas  removed,  there  lay  a 
strange  sight  before  the  Pilgrims’  eyes.  Inclosed  in  a 
great  quantity  of  fine  red  powder,  emitting  a pungent 
but  agreeable  odor,  lay  the  skeleton  of  a man,  fleshless, 
except  upon  the  skull,  where  clung  the  skin  and  a mass 
of  beautiful  hair,  yellow  as  gold,  and  curling  closely  as 
if  in  life. 

“ Is  the  flesh  turned  to  this  red  powder  ? ” asked 
Alden  fingering  it  dubiously. 

2 Mme  LrDc 


52 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


44  Dost  know,  Hopkins  ? ” asked  Standish,  but  the 
veteran  shook  his  head. 

44  I have  seen  naught  like  this  in  all  my  life,”  con- 
fessed he.  44  See,  here  is  a parcel  at  his  feet  done  up 
in  another  bit  of  the  old  sail.” 

46  Shall  I open  it,  Captain  ? ” asked  Alden  eagerly. 

44  Ay,  an’  thou  wilt.” 

44  ’T  is  clothes.  A sailor’s  jerkin  and  breeches,  a 
knife,  a sail  needle  threaded  with  somewhat  like  a bow- 
string ” — 

44  A deer’s  sinew.  They  still  use  it  as  our  women 
do  linen  thread,”  said  Hopkins  taking  it  in  his  hand. 

44  And  some  bits  of  wrought  iron,”  continued  Alden 
turning  them  over. 

44  Ay,  ay,  ay,  the  poor  fellow’s  chief est  treasures 
in  his  exile  among  the  salvages,”  said  Bradford  gently. 

44  And  still  he  was  finding  some  comfort,  you  may 
well  be  sure,”  suggested  Hopkins.  44  For  it  was  a sav- 
age woman  who  laid  him  thus  carefully  to  his  rest,  and 
yon  package  be  sure  is  the  bones  of  her  child.” 

44  Belike.  Open  it,  John,”  said  Standish  briefly,  and 
in  effect  the  smaller  package  contained  the  same  red 
and  pungent  powder  encasing  the  bones  of  a little  child, 
his  head  covered  with  a thinner  thatch  of  the  father’s 
yellow  curls,  and  the  wrists,  ankles,  and  neck  surrounded 
with  strings  of  fine  white  beads.  Beside  it  lay  a little 
bow  and  arrows  ornamented  with  all  the  loving  elabora- 
tion of  Indian  art. 

44  A boy,  and  his  mother’s  darling,  be  she  red  or 
white,  savage  or  Christian,”  said  Bradford  softly,  as  his 
thoughts  flew  to  the  baby  boy  left  in  Holland  under 
charge  of  his  wife  Dorothy’s  parents. 

44  Yes,”  replied  Standish  gently.  44  Cover  them  rev- 


THE  LILIES  OF  FRANCE . 53 

erently,  and  lay  them  in  their  grave  again.  God  send 
comfort  to  that  poor  woman’s  heart.” 

“ Certes  they  are  no  salvages,”  said  Hopkins  posi- 
tively. “ Never  saw  I yellow  hair  on  any  but  a white 
man’s  head,  nor  do  red  men  wear  breeches.” 

“ Ay,  he  was  a white  man,  but,  as  I opine,  a French- 
man,” declared  Winslow  thoughtfully. 

“ French  surely,  masters,  for  this  is  French,”  said 
Robert  Cartier  timidly,  as  he  handled  the  pointed 
board.  “ These  are  indeed  the  lilies  of  France.  I 
have  seen  them  full  oft.” 

“ Say  you  so,  lad  ? ” asked  Standish  kindly.  “ Well, 
I suppose  a man  loves  his  country’s  ensign  though  he  be 
naught  but  a Frenchman.  There,  place  all  as  we  found 
it,  and  let  us  go  our  ways.” 


CHAPTER  V. 


AN  AWFUL  DANGER. 

“ Found  you  a good  burial  place  in  yonder  wilder- 
ness ? ” asked  Dorothy  Bradford  of  her  husband  the 
next  morning  as  he  sat  beside  her  in  their  little  cabin 
on  the  high  quarter  deck  of  the  Mayflower. 

“Ay  truly,  wife,”  replied  the  husband  cheerily. 
“ And  much  did  we  muse  as  to  the  remains  so  honora- 
bly interred.  One  of  those  we  found  was  a little  lad 
scarce  as  old  as  our  baby  John,  and  almost  mine  eyes 
grew  wet  in  thinking  of  him  so  far  away.” 

“ Cruel  that  thou  art  to  speak  of  him,”  exclaimed  the 
young  mother  wildly,  “ when  thou  knowest  I am  dy- 
ing for  sight  of  the  child  and  of  home  and  my  mother 
and  all  that  I hold  dear.  I asked,  hadst  thou  found  a 
grave  for  poor  me  in  this  wilderness  whither  thou  hast 
brought  me  to  die.” 

“ Nay,  then,  dear  wife  ” — 

“ Mock  me  not  with  fair  words,  for  they  are  naught. 
If  I indeed  am  dear  take  me  home  to  all  I love.  Here 
I have  naught  but  thee,  and  one  might  as  well  love  one 
of  these  cold  gray  rocks  as  thee.” 

“ Have  I not  been  kind  and  gentle  to  thee,  Dorothy  ? ” 
asked  Bradford  bowing  his  face  upon  his  hands. 

“ Ay,  kind  enow,”  replied  she  sullenly.  “ And  gentle, 
as  brave  men  still  must  be  to  helpless  women,  but  as  for 
love  ! Tell  me  now,  William  Bradford,  dost  thou  to-day 
love  me  as  thou  couldst  have  loved  Alice  Carpenter  who 


AN  AWFUL  DANGEB. 


55 


flouted  thee  and  married  Edward  South  worth  instead  ? 
Nay,  now,  thou  darest  not  deny  that  thou  dost  love  her 
still ! ^ 

“ Peace,  woman  ! ” exclaimed  Bradford  raising  his 
Jace,  stern  and  pale  as  his  wife  had  seldom  seen  it,  and 
then  as  he  marked  her  fragile  features  and  woe-begone 
expression  his  tone  changed  to  a gentle  one.  “ Nay,  Dor- 
othy, thou  wrongest  thyself  and  me.  I told  thee  of  cer- 
tain passages,  past  before  I knew  thee,  because  I would 
have  no  secret  between  my  wife  and  me,  and  it  is  ill- 
done  of  thee  to  use  my  confidence  as  a weapon  against 
me.  And  again  thou  wrongest  me  grievously  ; Edward 
Southworth's  wife  is  naught  to  us ; we  twain  are  made 
one,  and  our  lives  are  to  run  in  the  one  channel  while 
both  shall  last.  It  is  for  me  to  shape  and  hew  that  chan- 
nel, and  for  thee  to  see  that  its  waters  run  clear  and 
sweet,  and,  if  you  will,  to  plant  posies  on  the  banks. 
Let  us  never  speak  again  of  these  matters,  Dorothy,  but 
rather  turn  our  minds  to  making  a fair  home  of  the 
place  whither  God  hath  brought  us,  and  doing  our  best 
by  each  other.  Trust  me,  wife,  thou  shalt  never  have 
cause  to  complain  for  lack  of  aught  I can  win  for  thee 
or  do  for  thee.  Nay,  Dorothy,  my  wife,  weep  not  so 
bitterly ! ” 

“ Master  Bradford,  are  you  within  ? 99  asked  John 
Howland's  voice  outside  the  door. 

“ Ay.  What  is  thy  errand,  John  ? '9 

16  The  governor  prays  you  to  attend  a Council  con- 
vened in  the  great  cabin.” 

“ I will  come,”  and  laying  his  hand  tenderly  yet  sol- 
emnly upon  the  bowed  head  of  his  wife  Bradford  mur- 
mured, — 

“ God  help  thee,  Dorothy,  God  help  us  both ! and 
without  waiting  for  a reply  so  left  her. 


56 


STAND1SH  OF  STamDISH . 


In  the  cabin  he  found  the  principal  men  of  the  com- 
pany seated  around  a table  covered  with  charts,  scrolls, 
and  instruments  of  various  sorts.  Standish  with  a brief 
nod  made  room  for  the  new-comer,  and  Carver  in  his 
measured  tones  explained : “ Some  of  us  were  talking 
with  Master  Jones  upon  the  question  of  seating  ourselves 
by  yonder  river  as  he  strongly  adviseth,  and  I thought 
it  best,  Master  Bradford,  to  call  a general  Council  and 
settle  the  matter  out  of  hand.  Here  are  such  charts  as 
the  Mayflower  saileth  by,  and  here  is  Master  Smith's 
maps  whereon  we  find  this  bay,  and  much  of  the  coast 
beyond,  laid  fairly  down.  Master  Hopkins  counseleth 
a place  called  Agawam  1 some  twenty  leagues  to  the 
northward,  whereof  he  hath  heard  as  a good  harbor  and 
fishing  ground.  Others  say  that  we  should  explore  yet 
farther  along  the  shores  of  this  land  which  Smith  calleth 
Cape  Cod,  even  as  he  nameth  the  whole  district  New 
England,  which  is  verily  a pleasant  reminder  for  us,  who 
in  spite  of  persecution  and  harshness  must  still  love  the 
name  of  the  land  wherein  we  have  left  the  bones  of  our 
sires." 

“ It  needs  not  so  many  words,  Governor,"  interrupted 
Jones  rudely.  “ If  ye  will  not  be  satisfied  with  the 
place  ye  saw  yesterday,  Coppin,  our  pilot,  knoweth  of 
another  river  with  plenty  of  cleared  land  about  it,  and  a 
harbor  fit  for  a war-fleet  to  ride  in,  lying  two  or  three 
leagues  to  the  southwest  of  this  place.  What  think  you 
of  taking  your  pinnace  and  going  to  look  at  it  ? " 

“ We  will  have  in  the  pilot  and  hear  his  story  for 
ourselves  before  we  answer  that  query,"  said  Carver 
with  dignity,  while  Standish  less  temperately  de- 
manded, — 


1 Ipswich. 


AN  AWFUL  DANGER. 


57 


€t  And  why,  Master  Jones,  didst  not  tell  us  this  at  first 
rather  than  at  last?  Well  nigh  hadst  thou  forced  us  to 
land  where  we  could  if  only  to  be  rid  of  thy  importu- 
nity.” 

Why  of  course  I had  rather  landed  you  here,  and 
been  off  for  home  rather  than  to  carry  you  further  and 
be  burdened  with  your  queasy  fancies,”  retorted  Jones 
brutally.  “ I ’m  no  man’s  fool  I ’d  have  thee  to  know 
my  little  fire-eater,  and  thou ’It  be  no  gladder  to  say 
good-by  when  the  time  comes  than  I.” 

“ Here  is  Robert  Coppin,  friends,”  interposed  Brew- 
ster mildly,  as  a hardy  fellow  entered  the  cabin  and 
nodded  with  scant  ceremony  to  the  company. 

“ Sit  thee  down,  Coppin,”  said  Carver  making  room 
for  the  pilot  beside  him.  “ We  would  have  thee  show 
us  upon  the  chart  this  river  whereof  Master  Jones  says 
thou  knowest.” 

“ Well,  it  should  be  hereaway  methinks,”  replied 
Coppin  bending  over  the  map  and  tracing  the  coast  line 
with  a horny  forefinger.  “ Is  it  yon  ? Nay,  I am  no 
scholar  and  steer  not  by  a chart  I cannot  make  out.  I 
know  the  place  when  I see  it,  and  I ’ll  find  it  again  if 
I ’m  set  to  it.” 

“ Thou  ’st  been  there,  then  ? ” 

“ Ay,  we  lay  there  three  weeks  when  I sailed  in  the 
whaler  Scotsman  out  of  Glasgow,  and  more  by  token 
we  named  the  place  Thievish  Harbor,  for  one  of  the 
Indians  stole  a harpoon  out  of  our  boat  and  away  with  it 
before  we  could  reach  him.  ’T  is  a goodly  river,  broader 
and  deeper  than  yon,  and  has  a broad  safe  harbor.”  1 

“ And  why  didst  thou  not  tell  us  of  this  place  sooner. 
Master  Coppin,  sith  thou  art  our  pilot ? ” sternly  de- 
manded Winslow, 

1 Jones  River,  Duxbury. 


68 


STANDISH  OF  STAND1SH. 


“ Well,  master,”  returned  Coppin  slowly,  and  casting 
a furtive  look  at  Jones  who  was  draining  a pewter 
flagon  of  beer,  “I  did  tell  Master  Jones  yonder,  but  he 
said  he  had  liefer  you  seated  here,  and  I was  to  hold  my 
tongue  ” — 

“ Thou  liest,  knave,”  roared  Jones  menacing  him 
with  the  flagon.  “ Thou  liest  in  thy  throat.  Or  if  thou 
didst  mumble  some  nonsense  in  mine  ears,  I paid  no 
heed,  doubting  not  that  thou  hadst  told  it  all  before  to 
thy  gossips  among  these  pious  folk.  But,  Governor,  if  it 
is  your  pleasure  to  seek  out  this  place,  I will  lend  you 
some  of  my  men  and  set  you  forward  at  your  own 
pleasure,” 

“ Thanks  for  your  good  will,  master,”  replied  Carver 
coldly.  “ What  say  you,  friends  ? Shall  we  try  it  ? ” 

Murmurs  and  words  of  assent  were  heard  on  all 
sides,  and  Standish  said,  — 

“ My  mind,  if  you  will  have  it,  is  that  this  matter 
should  be  shrewdly  pressed,  and  an  end  made  of  it  as 
soon  as  may  be.  Our  people  dwindle  daily  ; they  who 
were  well  a se’nnight  since  are  ill  to-day,  and  may  be 
dead  to-morrow.  Our  provision  waxeth  short  and  poor, 
and  be  it  once  spent  our  good  friend  Jones  will  give  us 
none  of  his  we  may  be  sure.  We  are  no  babes  to  be 
cast  down  by  these  things,  nor  frighted  at  facing  them, 
but  sure  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  use  our  strength 
while  it  is  left  to  us,  and  to  explore  this  place,  and  any 
other  whereof  we  may  hear,  with  no  farther  delay.  My 
counsel  is  to  tell  off  a company  of  our  soundest  men, 
and  set  forth  with  Coppin  this  very  hour,  or  as  soon  as 
we  may.” 

“Well  and  manfully  spoken,  Captain  Standish,”  re- 
plied Carver,  and  from  more  than  one  bearded  throat 


AN  AWFUL  DANGER.  59 

came  a grim  murmur  of  approval,  while  Hopkins  sig- 
nificantly added,  — 

“ Let  them  who  will,  be  treated  as  babes  and  set  down 
here  or  there  without  their  own  consent.  I for  one  am 
with  thee,  Captain,  in  the  bolder  course/’ 

“ If  thou  ’rt  with  me,  thou  ’rt  with  the  governor  and 
the  brethren.  I have  no  separate  design,  Master  Hop- 
kins,” replied  Standish  coldly.  “ I did  but  give  my 
mind  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  rest.” 

“ And  so  good  a mind  it  seemeth  to  me,  that  I pro- 
pose we  follow  it  without  delay.  What  say  ye, 
friends  ? ” 

“ I like  the  scheme  so  well  that  I fain  would  set 
forth  this  moment,”  said  Bradford,  over  whom  the  de- 
pression of  his  interview  with  Dorothy  still  hung. 

“ Then  in  God’s  name  let  the  thing  go  forward,” 
said  Carver  solemnly  raising  his  hand.  “ And,  it  is  my 
mind  that  such  among  us  as  have  in  some  sort  the 
charge  of  the  rest  should  be  the  men  to  go  upon  this 
emprise,  both  because  they  are  best  fitted  to  judge  what 
is  needed,  and  because  they  will  be  hampered  by  no 
need  of  orders  from  headquarters.  I propose,  then, 
that  leaving  Elder  Brewster  in  charge  of  those  who  re- 
main aboard,  the  party  should  consist  of  me  as  your 
governor,  and  Captain  Standish  as  our  man  of  war, 
with  Master  Winslow,  Master  Bradford,  and  the  Broth- 
ers Tilley  from  the  Leyden  brethren,  to  whom  we  will 
join  Master  Hopkins,  Master  Warren,  and  Edward 
Dotey  of  London.” 

“ Will  it  please  your  excellency  to  add  my  name  ? ” 
asked  John  Howland  eagerly.  “ Well  I wot  I am  not 
a principal  man,  but  I have  a strong  arm,  and  would 
fain  follow  thee,  if  I may.” 


60 


STAND/S ff  OF  STANDISH . 


“ A strong  arm,  a stout  heart,  and  a ready  wit,”  re- 
plied Carver  looking  kindly  at  his  retainer.  “ And 
gladly  do  I number  thee  of  the  company.  That  then 
counts  ten  of  us,  and  we  shall  have  Thomas  English  in 
charge  of  the  pinnace  with  John  Alderton  our  seaman, 
and  that  methinks  is  enough.” 

“ Enough  to  meet  the  danger  if  there  be  danger,  and 
to  divide  the  glory  if  there  be  glory,”  said  Myles 
placidly,  and  Bradford  softly  and  pensively  replied, 
‘‘No  such  glory  as  thou  didst  win  in  Flanders,  friend, 
but  truly  the  ‘glory  that  fadeth  not  away.’  ” 

“ Hm ! ” retorted  Myles  as  softly,  but  pulling  his  red 
beard  with  a grim  smile.  “ I ’m  not  greedy,  Will,  and 
I ’ll  leave  those  honors  for  thee.” 

“ Nay,”  began  Bradford  rousing  himself,  but  at  that 
moment  the  whole  brig  was  shaken,  and  the  councilors 
startled  from  their  dignity  by  a tremendous  explosion 
which  drove  them  from  their  seats,  while  the  air  was 
rent  by  yells  and  shrieks  in  various  tones  and  degrees, 
and  a stifling  smoke  and  smell  of  gunpowder  filled  the 
cabin. 

“ The  magazine  has  blown  up ! ” shouted  Stan  dish. 
“ Man  the  boats,  and  fetch  the  women  and  children ! ” 
And  he  rushed  to  his  own  cabin  where  Rose  lay,  not 
well  enough  to  rise.  But  Bradford,  seated  near  the 
companion-way,  had  already  sprung  down  and  presently 
returned  leading  by  the  ear  a blubbering  boy,  his  hands 
and  face  besmirched  with  gunpowder. 

“ Here  is  the  culprit,  Master  Carver,”  announced  he 
placing  him  in  front  of  the  governor. 

“ John  Billington ! ” exclaimed  Carver  sternly. 
“ Ever  in  mischief,  what  hast  thou  done  now  ? Speak 
the  truth,  boy,  or ’t  is  the  worse  for  thee.” 


AN  A WFUL  DANGER. 


61 


“ I did  but  take  dad’s  gun  from  the  hooks  in  our 
cabin,  and  she  went  off  in  my  hands,”  whimpered  the 
boy. 

“Nay,  ’t  was  more  than  that,  for  we  heard  not  om 
but  several  explosions,”  persisted  the  governor. 

“ There  was  a keg  of  gunpowder  under  the  bed,” 
confessed  the  boy  reluctantly,  “ and  — and  — some  of 
it  flew  out  upon  the  floor.” 

“ Flew  out  without  hands  ! ” exclaimed  Hopkins,  but 
Carver  raised  his  finger  and  asked  mildly,  — 

“ And  what  didst  thou  with  the  powder  on  the  floor, 
John  ? ” 

“I  made  some  squibs  as  father  did  last  Guy  Fawkes 
Day,”  muttered  the  boy. 

“ And  dropped  the  fire  among  the  loose  powder  on 
the  floor,  and  so  sent  all  off  together  ! ” broke  in  Hop- 
kins again.  “ And  if  the  keg  had  caught,  thou  wouldst. 
have  blown  the  ship  to  pieces ! Thou  unwhipt  rascal, 
thou  ’rt  enough  to  corrupt  a whole  colony  of  boys.  If 
my  Bartholomew  ever  speaks  to  thee  again  I ’ll  break 
every  bone  in  his  body,  as  I ’d  well  like  to  thine,  and 
will  ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  Master  Hopkins ! ” interposed  the  gov- 
ernor sternly.  “It  is  never  well  to  threaten  what  we 
cannot  perform.  We  break  not  bones  nor  put  to  the 
torture  in  our  new  community ; but,  John  Billington,  I 
shall  counsel  thy  father  to  take  thee  ashore  and  whip 
thee  so  soundly  as  shall  make  thee  long  remember  that 
gunpowder  is  for  thee  forbidden  fruit.  Go,  now,  to  thy 
cabin,  and  remain  there  till  he  comes,  while  I go  to  see 
what  harm  thou  hast  wrought.” 

“ Mistress  Carver  would  fain  see  the  governor  without 
delay,”  announced  Lois,  Mistress  Carver’s  maid,  in  a 


62 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


quavering  voice.  “ Jasper  More  was  so  frighted  by 
the  noise  that  he  is  in  convulsions,  and  we  know  not 
but  he  is  dying.” 

“ Is  Doctor  Fuller  here  ? ” demanded  another  voice. 
66  Mistress  White  would  see  him  presently.” 

“ And  this  is  thy  work,  boy ! ” exclaimed  Carver 
solemnly.  “ Go  ! ” 

And  the  boy  crept  miserably  away,  foreboding  the 
whipping  of  which  he  was  not  disappointed. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE  FIRST  ENCOUNTER. 

So  thoroughly  were  the  bolder  spirits  among  the 
Pilgrims  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  haste  in  finding 
an  abiding  place  that  by  afternoon  of  the  next  day  the 
pinnace  was  victualed  and  fitted  for  a voyage  of  ten 
days  or  more,  and  the  adventurers  ready  to  embark. 
To  the  twelve  men  previously  named,  all  of  whom  were 
signers  of  the  Constitution  already  drawn  up  to  quell 
symptoms  of  insubordination  on  the  part  of  Hopkins 
and  others,  were  added  Clarke  and  Coppin,  acting  as 
pilots,  with  the  rank  of  master's  mate,  three  sailors,  and 
the  master  gunner,  who,  uninvited,  thrust  himself  into 
the  company  in  hopes  of  making  something  by  traffic,  or, 
as  he  phrased  it,  trucking  with  the  Indians. 

But  hasten  as  they  might  many  things  delayed  them, 
some  of  them  as  important  as  the  death  of  Jasper  More, 
an  orphan  in  charge  of  the  Carvers,  and  the  birth  of  a 
son  to  Mistress  White,  whom  his  father  and  Doctor 
Fuller  whimsically  named  Peregrine,  latest  of  the  Pil- 
grims, and  first  of  native  born  American  white  men. 
When  at  last  the  shallop  left  the  Mayflower’s  side  it 
was  in  teeth  of  such  bad  weather  as  left  the  former  ex- 
pedition far  in  the  shade,  for  not  only  was  the  northeast 
wind  more  bitter,  but  the  temperature  so  low  that  the 
spray  froze  upon  the  rigging  and  the  men’s  jerkins,  turn* 
ing  them  into  coats  of  mail  almost  impossible  to  bend. 


64 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


It  was  soon  found  impossible  for  Master  English  to 
lay  his  proposed  course,  and  finally  the  Pilgrims  r0r 
solved  to  land  and  encamp  for  the  night,  partly  for  tht 
sake  of  the  greedy  gunner,  who  had  turned  so  deadly 
sick  that  it  was  feared  he  would  die,  and  for  Edward 
Tilley,  who  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  in  a dead 
swoon,  while  his  brother  John  crouched  beside  him  cov- 
ered with  John  Howland’s  coat,  which  he  declared  was 
but  an  impediment  to  him  in  rowing. 

“ They  should  never  have  come.  Had  I guessed 
their  unfitness  I would  have  hindered  it,  but  now  alack 
it  is  too  late,  and  I fear  they  have  come  to  their  death,” 
said  Carver  in  Bradford’s  ear,  and  indeed  it  was  so. 
The  brothers,  never  divided  in  body  or  soul  since  their 
birth,  had  as  one  man  given  their  substance,  their 
strength,  their  faith,  to  the  common  cause,  and  now 
were  giving  their  lives  as  simply  and  as  willingly  as 
heroes  ever  will  go  to  their  death,  so  giving  life  to 
many. 

The  second  night  found  them  only  as  far  as  what  we 
now  call  Eastham,  and  again  building  a “ randevous 99  and 
gathering  firewood,  a difficult  task  at  any  time  in  this 
vicinity,  for  the  trees  were  lofty  and  the  underbrush 
annually  burned  away  by  the  Indians  to  facilitate  hunt- 
ing. But  it  was  finally  done,  as  all  things  will  be  when 
such  men  set  about  them,  the  fire  was  built,  the  supper 
eaten,  the  prayer  said,  and  the  psalm  sung,  its  rude 
melody  rising  from  that  wilderness  to  the  wintry  sky 
with  the  assurance  of  Daniel’s  song  in  the  den  of  lions. 
Then  all  slept  except  Edward  Dotey,  to  whom  was 
committed  the  first  watch,  to  last  while  three  inches  of 
the  slow-match  attached  to  his  piece  were  consuming. 

Striding  up  and  down  his  appointed  beat  the  young 


THE  FIRST  ENCOUNTER. 


65 


man  hummed  again  the  evening  psalm,  mildly  anathe- 
matized the  cold,  peered  into  the  blackness  of  the  forest, 
and  glanced  enviously  at  his  comrades  sound  asleep 
about  the  fire. 

“ ’T  is  all  but  burned,”  muttered  he  stooping  to  ex* 
amine  the  match,  and  thrusting  a fallen  log  back  into 
the  fire  with  his  boot.  But  in  that  very  instant  upon 
the  intense  stillness  of  the  night  burst  suddenly  a dis- 
cordant clamor,  a confusion  of  horrible  and  unknown 
sounds,  unlike,  in  simple  Edward  Dotey’s  mind,  to  any- 
thing possible  this  side  of  hell.  Undaunted  even  thus, 
he  answered  the  assault  with  a yell  of  quivering  de- 
fiance, fired  his  matchlock  into  the  air,  and  shouted  at 
the  top  of  his  voice,  — 

“ Arm  ! arm  ! arm  ! The  fiend  is  upon  us  ! ” 

All  sprang  to  their  feet  alert  and  ready,  and  two  or 
three  pieces  were  shot  off,  but  no  foe  appeared,  and  no 
reply  was  made  to  their  shouts  of  defiance. 

Dotey,  questioned  by  Standish,  was  fain  to  confess  ho 
had  seen  nothing,  and  Coppin  averred  that  he  had  more 
than  once  heard  similar  sounds  upon  the  coast  of  New- 
foundland, and  that  they  were  commonly  thought  to  be 
the  voices  of  sirens  or  mermaids  who  haunted  lonely 
shores. 

“ If  naught  more  imminent  than  mermaids  is  upon 
us  I ’ll  e’en  go  back  to  sleep,”  said  Winslow  in  good- 
natured  derision,  while  Standish,  lighting  his  slow- 
match,  said  pleasantly  to  Dotey,  — 

u Lay  thee  down,  man,  and  sleep.  If  thy  fiend  comes 
again  I ’ll  give  account  of  him.” 

A few  grim  jests,  a little  laughter,  and  the  camp  was 
again  quiet,  until  Standish,  sure  that  no  enemy  could  be 
at  hand,  resigned  his  watch  to  Howland,  and  he  to  Eng- 


66 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH . 


lish,  until  at  five  o’clock  William  Bradford  aroused  his 
comrades,  reminding  them  that  on  account  of  the  tide 
they  must  embark  within  the  hour,  and  had  still  to 
breakfast. 

A wintry  fog,  piercing  in  its  chill,  had  closed  down 
upon  the  camp,  covering  everything  with  a half-frozen 
rime,  dropping  sullenly  like  rain  from  such  things  as 
came  near  the  fire,  and  stiffening  into  ice  in  the  shade. 

“ I fear  me  our  pieces  will  hang  fire  after  this  soak- 
ing,”  remarked  Carver  examining  his  matchlock. 

“ It  were  well  to  try  them  before  there  is  need,”  said 
Winslow  firing  his  into  the  thicket  behind  the  camp. 
His  example  was  followed  by  several,  until  Standish 
good-humoredly  cried,  — 

“ Enough,  enough,  friends  ! Save  powder  and  shot 
for  the  enemy  if  there  be  one.  Such  grapes  grow  not 
on  these  vines.” 

“ Well,  since  the  pieces  are  ready,  and  the  twilight 
breaks,  it  were  well  for  some  of  us  to  carry  them  and 
the  other  armor  down  to  the  boat,  while  the  rest  set  out 
the  breakfast,”  suggested  Hopkins,  always  anxious  to  be 
stirring. 

“ Nay,  ’t  is  but  poor  soldiership  to  part  from  our 
arms  even  for  so  brief  a space,”  said  Winslow.  “ There 
be  other  matters,  cloaks  and  haversacks,  and  such  like, 
that  can  be  carried,  but  the  arms  and  armor  should 
abide  with  them  who  wear  them.” 

“ Master  Winslow  may  do  as  seemeth  good  in  his  own 
eyes,  but  my  armor  goeth  now,”  retorted  Hopkins  in  a 
belligerent  tone.  And  loading  himself  with  his  breast- 
plate, steel  cap,  matchlock,  and  bullet  pouch,  he  strode 
obstinately  away  to  the  boat,  lying  some  three  or  four 
hundred  yards  distant,  waiting  for  the  tide  to  float  her. 


THE  FIRST  ENCOUNTER, . 67 

Standish  watched  him  disapprovingly,  and,  turning  to 
Carver,  he  inquired  significantly,  — 

“ What  saith  our  governor  ? ” 

“ Let  each  man  do  as  seemeth  good  to  himself,”  re- 
plied Carver  placably.  “ ’T  is  of  no  great  import.” 

“ My  snaphance  goes  nowhere  out  of  reach  of  my 
right  hand,”  announced  Standish  somewhat  sharply,  for 
the  want  of  discipline  grieved  him,  and  Bradford,  Win- 
slow, and  Howland  silently  indorsed  both  his  action 
and  his  feeling.  The  courteous  Carver  said  nothing, 
and  did  nothing,  but  a sailor  seeing  the  governor’s 
armor  lying  together,  carried  it  down  to  the  boat,  think- 
ing to  do  him  a service. 

Reaching  the  shore,  Hopkins  found  the  boat  sur- 
rounded by  a few  inches  of  water,  and,  not  caring  to 
wade  out  to  her,  laid  his  load  upon  the  shore,  to  wait 
until  she  fairly  floated,  — an  example  followed  by  the 
rest,  some  of  whom  strolled  back  to  the  camp,  while 
others  stood  talking  to  those  who  had  slept  on  board, 
until  a summons  to  breakfast  quickened  their  motions  ; 
but  just  as  the  laggards  entered  the  randevous  the  same 
horrible  noise  that  had  so  startled  Edward  Dotey  burst 
forth  again,  while  one  of  the  sailors  yet  lingering  by  the 
shore  came  rushing  up,  shouting  like  a madman,  — 

“ Salvages  ! Indians  ! They  are  men  ! ” and,  as  if 
to  prove  his  words,  a shower  of  arrows  came  rattling 
into  the  randevous,  one  of  them  transfixing  the  lump 
of  boiled  beef  laid  ready  for  breakfast. 

“ Why  did  n’t  you  bring  up  your  pieces  again,  ye 
fools ! ” cried  Standish  angrily.  “ Run,  now,  and  re- 
cover them  before  the  enemy  seizes  them,  while  we  men 
of  wit  cover  your  course.” 

Not  waiting  to  dispute  the  style  of  this  command,  the 


68 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Unarmed  men  hastened  to  obey  it,  while  Standish,  taking 
position  at  the  open  entrance  of  the  barricade,  fired  his 
snaphance  in  the  direction  where  the  sailor  pointed ; 
Bradford  followed  suit ; but  as  Winslow  and  Howland 
stepped  forward  Standish  held  up  his  hand,  — 

“ Hold  your  fire,  men,  until  we  see  the  foe,  and 
Bradford  load  again  with  all  speed!  We  must  hold 
the  randevous  at  all  odds,  for  here  is  half  our  stuff, 
and  our  lives  depend  upon  not  losing  it.  Hasten  ye  lag- 
gards ! Run  Tilley  ! Run  men  ! ” 

“ He  is  spent!  ” cried  John  Howland,  throwing  down 
his  piece  and  dashing  out  into  the  open,  where  he  seized 
John  Tilley  round  the  waist  and  half  carried,  half 
dragged  him  into  the  inclosure. 

“ They  will  seize  the  shallop  ! ” cried  Carver,  and 
springing  on  the  barricade,  heedless  of  his  own  exposure, 
he  shouted  to  those  in  the  boat,  — 

“ Ho,  Warren  ! English ! Coppin  ! Are  you  safe  and 
on  your  watch  ? ” 

“ Ay,  well ! All  is  well ! ” cried  the  rough  voices  of 
the  seamen,  and  Warren’s  manly  tones  added,  “ Be  of 
good  courage,  brethren  ! ” 

“ And  quit  yourselves  like  men/’  muttered  Standish, 
his  snaphance  at  his  shoulder,  his  eager  eyes  scanning 
the  covert. 

Three  shots  from  the  pinnace  rang  bravely  through 
the  wood,  and  then  came  a hail,  — 

“Ho,  comrades,  bring  us  a light!  We  have  no  fire 
to  set  off  our  pieces  J 99 

“ Their  matches  are  not  alight ! 99  exclaimed  Howland, 
and  snatching  a brand  from  the  camp-fire  he  again 
dashed  out,  down  the  wooded  slope,  and  splashing  mid- 
leg deep  through  the  freezing  brine,  he  gave  the  brand 


THE  FIRST  ENCOUNTER, 


69 


into  Warren’s  hand,  then  rushed  back  as  he  came,  the 
arrows  whistling  around  his  head  and  two  sticking  in  his 
heavy  frieze  jerkin. 

“ Well  done,  John  ! well  done  ! ” cried  Carver  clap- 
ping the  young  man  on  the  shoulder  as,  breathless  and 
glowing,  he  stooped  to  pick  up  his  matchlock.  “ The 
sight  of  such  valor  will  daunten  the  Indians  more  than 
a whole  flight  of  bullets.” 

And  in  fact  there  was  for  a moment  a lull  in  the 
enemy’s  movements,  but  rather  of  rage  than  dismay, 
for  the  savage  outcry  burst  forth  the  next  moment  with 
more  ferocity  than  ever,  and  as  it  died  away  a single 
voice  shouted  in  a tone  of  command  some  words,  to 
which  the  rest  responded  by  such  a yell  as  later  on 
curdled  the  blood  of  the  hapless  settlers  at  Deerfield  and 
other  places. 

u Aha  ! There  is  a leader,  there ! ” growled  Standish, 
his  eyes  glittering  and  his  strong  teeth  clenched.  “ Let 
him  show  himself ! ” 

As  if  in  answer  to  the  wish  a stalwart  figure  leaped 
from  behind  a large  tree  to  the  shelter  of  a smaller  one, 
about  half  a gunshot  from  the  camp. 

“ That ’s  your  man,  Captain  ! ” exclaimed  Howland, 
who  stood  next  him. 

“ Ay,  leave  him  to  me  ! ” growled  Standish.  “ Ha ! ” 
for  an  arrow  well  and  strongly  aimed  hit  squarely  above 
his  heart,  and  rebounded  from  the  coat  of  mail  Rose 
had  insisted  upon  his  putting  on. 

“ For  thee,  wife  ! ” murmured  the  captain,  and  firedo 

Bark  and  splinters  flew  from  the  tree  where  the 
crown  of  the  warrior’s  head  had  showed  for  an  instant, 
but  a shriek  of  derisive  laughter  told  that  no  further 
harm  was  done.  Standish,  with  a grim  smile,  reloaded 


70 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


his  snaphance,  while  two  more  arrows  vigorously  flew, 
one  piercing  the  right  sleeve  of  his  doublet,  the  other 
aimed  at  his  face,  which  he  avoided  by  moving  his 
head.  Then  for  one  instant  a dusky  arm  was  seen 
reaching  over  the  shoulder  for  another  arrow,  and  in 
that  instant  the  snaphance  rang  cheerily  out,  the  arm 
fell  with  a convulsive  movement,  and  a piercing  cry 
rang  through  the  wood,  followed  by  the  pattering  of 
many  moccasoned  feet,  as  dusky  shadows  slipped  from 
tree  to  tree,  and  were  lost  in  the  dim  recesses  of  the 
forest. 

“ They  are  routed  ! They  fly  ! ” cried  Howland 
firing  his  piece  into  a rustling  thicket. 

“ Yes,  that  last  cry  was  the  retreat,”  said  Standish 
half  regretfully  plucking  the  arrow  from  his  sleeve. 
“ The  chief  finds  his  courage  cooled  by  a broken  elbow. 
I doubt  me  if  ever  he  speed  arrow  again.” 

“ Body  o’  me  ! ” continued  he  examining  the  shaft  in 
his  hand.  “ See  you,  John,  ’t  is  pointed  with  naught 
but  a bird’s  talon,  curiously  bound  on  with  its  own 
sinews.  To  be  scratched  to  death  by  a fowl  were  but  a 
poor  ending  for  a man  that  has  fought  Alva ! ” 

“ Pursue  them,  Captain,  pursue  and  terrify,  but  kill 
not,  if  you  can  help  it,”  ordered  Carver  eagerly.  “ Let 
the  heathen  know  that  they  are  but  men,  and  that  the 
Lord  of  Hosts  is  on  our  side.” 

“ Forward  then,  men  ! At  the  double-quick  ! Run ! ” 
and,  waving  his  sword,  Standish  rushed  after  the  flying 
savages,  followed  by  all  but  Carver,  English,  and  the 
sailors  who  stayed  to  guard  the  randevous  and  the  pin- 
nace. But  even  as  he  ran  Myles  muttered,  perhaps  to 
the  sword  Gideon, — 

“ Beshrew  me  if  I see  how  I am  to  hurl  yon  text  in 


THE  FIRST  ENCOUNTER. 


71 


the  heathen’s  teeth,  sith  we  have  no  common  tongue, 
and  they  will  not  stop  for  parley  ! A good  man,  and  a 
gentle,  but  no  soldier,  is  our  governor  ! ” 

As  might  have  been  expected,  the  Pilgrims,  in  their 
heavy  clothing  and  armor,  proved  no  match  for  the  In- 
dians in  a foot-race,  and  after  pursuing  them  for  about 
a quarter  of  a mile  Standish  called  a halt,  and  ordered 
his  men  to  raise  a shout  of  mingled  triumph  and  de- 
fiance, followed  by  a volley  of  three,  each  three  reload- 
ing as  the  next  fired. 

The  victory  thus  asserted,  and  the  foe  offering  no 
response,  the  little  army  retired  in  good  order  upon  the 
randevous,  where  they  only  tarried  long  enough  to  pick 
up  the  rest  of  their  possessions  and  make  a sheaf  of 
arrows,  pointed  not  only  with  eagle’s  claws,  but  with  the 
tips  of  deer’s  horns  and  bits  of  brass  and  iron  gathered 
from  the  various  European  vessels  touching  for  provi- 
sions or  traffic  at  these  shores. 

It  was  indeed  to  the  treachery  of  one  of  these  com- 
manders that  the  present  attack  of  the  savages  was  due. 
Thomas  Hunt,  visiting  these  shores  in  1614  to  procure 
a cargo  of  dried  fish  for  Spain,  recompensed  the  kind- 
ness and  hospitality  of  the  savages  by  cajoling  four-and' 
twenty  of  them  on  board  his  ship  and  carrying  them  as 
slaves  to  Malaga,  where  he  sold  several,  the  rest  being 
claimed  for  purposes  of  conversion  by  the  Franciscan 
Friars  of  those  parts. 

One  of  these  captives,  named  Tisquantum,  or  Squanto, 
escaped  from  Hunt,  and  remained  for  a while  in  Eng- 
land, where  he  was  kindly  treated  and  learned  the  lan- 
guage with  something  of  the  mode  of  life.  He  was 
brought  back  to  Cape  Cod  as  an  interpreter  by  an  ad- 
venturer named  Dermer,  and  finally  returned  to  his  own 


72 


STANDISH  OF  STAND1SH. 


people,  who  were  so  enraged  by  his  story  of  Hunt’s 
treachery  and  cruelty,  that  they  resolved  by  way  of  re- 
venge to  sacrifice  the  first  white  men  who  fell  into  their 
hands,  and  had  they  proved  themselves  better  men  than 
the  Pilgrims  would  have  inflicted  not  only  death,  but 
the  most  cruel  torments  upon  them. 

The  goods  and  weapons  on  board,  Carver,  by  a word., 
gathered  the  men  around  him  upon  the  sands,  and  in  a 
few  fervent  and  hearty  words  returned  thanks  to  the 
God  of  battles  for  His  aid  and  protection,  invoking  at 
the  same  time  protection  and  counsel  for  the  farther 
dangers  of  the  exploration.  Then  embarking  with  all 
speed  the  shallop  was  pushed  off  and  flew  merrily  on 
before  the  strong  east  wind. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


clarke’s  island. 

“And  now,  Master  Coppin,  let  us  bear  up  for 
Thievish  Harbor  without  more  delays,”  said  Carver  as 
the  boat  settled  to  her  work,  and  the  men  into  their 
places. 

“ Ay,  ay,  master,”  responded  the  pilot  cheerily. 
“ And  a good  harbor  and  a good  seat  shall  you  find  it 
in  spite  of  its  ill-favored  name.” 

But  as  the  day  went  on  the  stormy  sky  lowered  yet 
more  and  more  blackly,  the  wind,  shifting  between  east 
and  north,  swooped  in  angry  gusts  across  the  black 
waters,  or  blew  in  so  fierce  a gale  that  the  shallop 
scarcely  bore  her  close-reefed  sails,  and  more  than  once 
careened  so  as  to  ship  alarming  seas.  The  air,  filled 
with  sleet  and  icy  snow,  cut  like  a knife  through  the 
thickest  clothing,  and  again  Edward  Tilley,  swooning 
with  exhaustion  and  cold,  lay  lifeless  in  the  bottom  of 
the  boat,  sadly  watched  by  his  brother  in  hardly  better 
plight  and  by  Carver,  who,  like  the  father  of  a family, 
carried  all  his  children  in  his  heart. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  these  skirmishes 
of  the  storm  concentrated  in  one  furious  and  irresisti- 
ble attack,  before  which  even  the  hardy  sailors  lowered 
their  heads  and  clung  to  whatever  lay  nearest,  while 
Clarke,  who  was  steering,  suddenly  reeled  violently 
against  the  bulwark,  and  recovering  himself  with  a fear- 
ful oath  seized  an  oar  and  thrusting  it  out  astern 
shouted,  — 


74 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ We  be  all  dead  men ! The  rudder  has  broke,  and 
no  man  can  steer  in  such  a sea  as  this  with  an  oar ! ” 

“ Two  men  may,  so  they  be  men  and  not  cowards  ! ” 
shouted  John  Alderton  in  retort,  and  springing  to  the 
stern  he  thrust  out  his  own  oar,  calling  to  a comrade,  — 
“ Here,  Cornish  Jim,  come  you  and  help  me,  and  so 
long  as  ash  blades  and  stout  arms  hold  we  two  will  steer 
the  craft.” 

“ Good  cheer,  men  ! ” hailed  Coppin  from  the  bows 
where  he  was  on  the  lookout.  “ I see  the  harbor  straight 
ahead  ! We  are  all  but  in  ! Carry  on,  carry  on  with 
your  sails  there,  Clarke,  and  let  us  make  the  haven  be- 
fore the  gale  rises  to  its  height.” 

“ She  ’ll  never  carry  another  inch  of  canvas,”  expos- 
tulated English  as  the  mate  shook  out  a reef  in  the 
mainsail,  but  Coppin  and  Clarke  were  now  in  command, 
since  only  they  professed  to  know  the  coast,  and  the 
warning  was  unheeded,  especially  as  the  wind  had  for  a 
moment  lulled  or  rather  drawn  back  for  a more  formid- 
able spring,  swooping  down  as  the  last  reef  point  was 
loosed  with  a force  that  snatched  the  great  sail  from  the 
men’s  hands,  and  buried  the  nose  of  the  shallop  deep 
under  water.  The  sail  cracked  and  filled  until  it  was 
tense  as  iron,  but  the  honest  Holland  duck  could  not 
give  way,  and  it  was  the  mast  that  had  to  go,  breaking 
into  three  pieces  and  falling  overboard  with  a splinter- 
ing crash.  Nor  was  this  the  worst,  for  with  the  mast 
went  the  great  sail  with  all  its  hamper  of  blocks  and 
cordage,  which,  half  in  and  half  out  the  boat,  threatened 
to  capsize  and  swamp  her  before  it  could  be  cut  away. 

“ Save  the  sail,  men  ! ” cried  English  through  all  the 
hubbub.  “ As  good  lose  all  as  lose  our  sail ! Gather 
it  in  and  stow  it  as  best  we  may.  Keep  her  before  the 
wind,  you  lubbers  ! Handle  your  oars  for  your  lives  ! 99 


CLARKE’S  ISLAND. 


75 


For  now  the  great  boat,  losing  her  sail,  must  depend 
upon  oars,  and  with  two  men  at  each,  and  Alderton  and 
the  Cornish  giant  steering  as  best  they  might  against  a 
sea  howling  and  leaping  like  wild  beasts  around  them, 
the  shattered  craft  drove  on  past  the  headland  of  Mano- 
met,  steering  straight  for  the  deadly  rocks  off  the  Gur- 
net’s Head,  which  Coppin  espying  from  the  bows,  he 
uttered  a cry  of  dismay,  shouting,  — 

“ The  Lord  be  merciful  to  our  sinful  souls,  for  I never 
saw  this  place  before  ! ” 

“ Breakers  ahead  ! ” shouted  Clarke.  “ Beach  her, 
Alderton  ! Run  her  ashore  on  yon  headland  ! We 
that  can  swim  may  save  ourselves  ! Beach  her,  I say ! ” 
“ And  I say  no  such  coward  thing,”  retorted  Aider- 
ton.  “ About  with  her,  men  ! Row,  row  for  your  lives  ! 
Bend  down  to  it ! So  ! Pull,  pull ! I see  a channel 
ahead  and  smooth  water  ! Hold  on  here,  Jim,  till  I get 
out  another  oar,  this  cracks  ! Now  then  ! Yeo-ho  ! 
Here  we  go  past  the  reef  ! ” 

And  weathering  Brown’s  Island  and  the  Gurnet 
Rocks,  the  brave  fellow  steering  more  by  instinct  than 
sight,  for  darkness  had  fallen  with  the  storm,  the  shal- 
lop struck  the  channel  then  dividing  Saquish  from  the 
Gurnet,  flew  through  it  like  a hunted  creature,  and 
forging  past  the  north  headland  of  a small  densely 
wooded  island  found  herself  in  calm  water  close  under 
its  lee. 

“ There,  men,  ye  are  safe,  thanks  to  stout  hearts  and 
arms  and  good  ashen  blades ! ” exclaimed  Alderton 
drawing  his  first  full  breath  since  seizing  the  steering 
oar. 

“ Thanks  to  God  Almighty  who  still  giveth  His 
servants  the  victory,”  amended  Carver,  who  had  toiled 
with  the  sturdiest. 


76 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ And  now,  where  are  we  and  what  is  to  do  next  ? 99 
demanded  Standish  clenching  his  blistered  hands. 

“We  are  between  two  shores,  maybe  islands  both, 
maybe  the  lee  shore  is  the  main,”  replied  Coppin  peer- 
ing through  the  darkness.  “ And  more  I know  not.” 

“ And  I for  one  am  minded  to  get  ashore  and  see  if 
there  be  stuff  for  a fire  and  shelter,  whatever  name  the 
place  may  hold,”  cried  Hopkins  dashing  the  drops  of 
salt  water  from  his  face  and  beard. 

“ And  I,”  added  Standish  heartily.  “ What  say 
you,  Master  Carver  ? Shall  we  land  and  make  some  sort 
of  randevous  upon  the  shore  ? ” 

“ The  place  may  be  full  of  salvages,  who,  drawn  by 
the  light  of  a fire,  can  come  upon  us  unaware,”  replied 
Carver  hesitatingly. 

“ As  well  risk  another  encounter  as  to  perish  here  of 
cold  and  exhaustion,”  suggested  Winslow. 

“ Safety  most  often  lies  on  the  side  of  courage,”  de- 
clared Standish  sententiously. 

“ And  Master  Tilley  will  die  if  naught  be  done  for 
him,”  pleaded  Howland,  and  to  this  consideration 
Carver  at  once  yielded  his  careful  scruples. 

“Ay,  John,  thou  ’rt  right  to  mind  me  of  that,”  said 
he.  “ Some  of  us  will  go  ashore  and  make  a fire, 
whereat  to  comfort  those  who  are  overborne  by  cold  and 
weariness,  and  some  shall  keep  the  boat  until  the  first 
are  refreshed,  and  so  hold  watch  and  watch.” 

“ And  I will  be  of  the  first  watch  ashore,”  cried 
Clarke,  the  master’s  mate ; “ for  I ’d  twice  liefer  meet  all 
the  salvages  of  the  Indies  than  to  freeze  like  a clod,  so 
here  goes.”  And  stepping  upon  the  gunwale  he  made 
a spring  in  the  dark,  alighting  upon  a slippery  rock  and 
measuring  his  length  upon  the  sand.  Nothing  daunted. 


CLARKE’S  ISLAND . 


77 


however,  he  grasped  a handful  of  sand  in  each  fist,  as  if 
his  prostration  had  been  voluntary,  and  springing  to  his 
feet  cried  in  a braggadocio  voice,  — 

“ I seize  this  land  for  King  James  of  England  and 
for  myself.” 

“ Thyself!”  growled  Coppin,  jealously.  “We’ll 
call  it  Clarke’s  Land,  then  ; for  truly  ’t  is  all  thou  ’rt 
ever  likely  to  be  master  of.” 

“ Nay,  then,  thou  ’rt  welcome  to  the  six  feet  they  ’ll 
give  thee  after  thou  ’rt  hung,”  retorted  Clarke,  and  the 
sailors  chuckled  at  the  jest,  while  the  Pilgrims  gravely 
arranged  which  watch  should  first  land,  and  which  keep 
the  boat. 

Peering  around  in  the  obscurity,  the  pioneers  soon 
found  a sheltered  nook  close  under  the  bluff,  and  built 
their  fire  and  made  their  camp  very  near  the  spot  where 
a little  wharf  now  lies,  and  where  generation  after  gen- 
eration of  their  children  has  stood  to  meditate,  to 
dream,  to  drink  in  the  glory  of  summer  seas  and  skies, 
or  beneath  the  August  moon  to  whisper  in  each  others 
ears  the  old,  old  story,  never  so  fresh  and  never  so  real 
as  it  has  come  to  some  of  them  on  the  shores  of 
Clarke’s  Island. 

No  rosy  dreams,  no  moonlit  passages  were  theirs 
however,  who  in  that  stormy  December  night  first  trod 
that  pleasant  shore,  but  rather  the  sternest  realities  of 
life  and  death,  as  with  numb  and  icy  fingers  they  struck 
a light  and  sheltered  the  feeble  blaze  loth  to  catch  upon 
the  wet  twigs  and  leaves  hastily  collected. 

“ Either  there  are  no  Indians  or  this  is  an  island  too 
small  for  hunting,”  said  Hopkins  as  he  groped  in  the 
thicket  at  the  top  of  the  bluff  for  small  wood. 

“ And  how  know  you  that  ? ” inquired  Howland  who 
helped  him. 


78 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


44  By  this  undergrowth  that  we  are  gathering,  lad. 
The  Indians  burn  it  off  year  by  year  in  the  haunts  of 
«he  deer,  so  that  they  may  course  there  freely,  hut  here 
thou  se&st  are  plenty  of  old  and  dry  twigs.” 

44  The  better  for  our  fire,”  returned  Howland  philo- 
sophically, not  so  much  interested  at  that  moment  in  the 
habits  of  Indians  as  in  providing  for  Elizabeth  Tilley’s 
father. 

The  more  cautious  brethren  in  the  pinnace  meantime 
had  anchored  and  made  things  as  snug  as  possible  on 
board,  but  as  the  fire  blazed  up,  and  one  after  another 
on  shore  showed  signs  of  its  genial  influence,  the  dan- 
gers of  abandoning  the  boat  grew  less  and  less  formid- 
able, until  Standish,  rubbing  his  hands  and  turning  to 
toast  the  other  side  of  his  person,  cried  exultingly,  — 

“ Aha,  I am  warm  ! I have  seen  the  fire  ! ” 

“ So  have  I seen  it,  and  here  goes  to  feel  it ! ” cried 
Coppin  jumping  as  far  toward  land  as  he  could,  and 
splashing  the  rest  of  the  way,  for  he  had  sulkily  re- 
mained on  board  when  Clarke  leaped  ashore  and  claimed 
the  island. 

44  Methinks  the  example  is  good  if  the  manner  be  un- 
courteous,”  said  Winslow  wistfully. 

44  Ay,”  replied  Carver  a little  annoyed  by  Coppin’s 
action,  although  he  claimed  no  authority  over  the  rough 
fellow.  44 1 was  just  about  to  say  that  it  were  as  well 
that  we  landed,  taking  our  arms  with  us  and  standing 
on  our  guard,  for  truly  we  are  perishing  here.” 

The  permission  calmly  waited  for  was  thankfully  re- 
ceived, and  in  a few  moments  the  whole  party  was 
gathered  about  the  now  jubilant  fire  which,  fed  with 
cedar  logs,  sent  up  clouds  of  perfumed  smoke  to  float 
like  incense  among  the  crests  of  the  shivering  parent 
trees. 


CLARKE'S  ISLAND. 


79 


The  next  morning  broke  calm  and  ‘sunshining,’  and 
the  Pilgrims,  renewing  their  fire,  offered  a solemn 
prayer  of  thanksgiving  and  confidence,  and  sat  down  to 
breakfast. 

After  this  came  an  exploration,  which  showed  the 
small  size  and  compact  nature  of  the  island,  as  well  as 
its  total  lack  of  inhabitants.  This  tour  was  followed 
by  an  informal  council  about  the  fire,  wherein  it  was 
resolved  to  remain  during  the  day,  which  was  Saturday, 
upon  the  island,  drying  and  cleaning  their  weapons, 
rigging  a temporary  mast  for  the  shallop,  baling  and 
drying  her,  and  restoring  by  rest  and  comfort  some 
measure  of  strength  to  the  feebler  members  of  the  party. 
Also,  and  this  not  the  least  consideration,  the  next  day 
being  Sunday,  they  would  thus  be  prepared  to  observe 
it  with  that  decency  and  recollection  which  were  part  of 
their  religion. 

The  plan  arranged,  all  set  heartily  to  work  to  carry 
it  out,  the  sailors  going  aboard  to  bale  the  boat,  and 
Clarke  and  Alderton  undertaking  to  fit  the  new  mast. 
A proud  young  cedar,  growing  straight  and  tall  among 
his  slender  admirers,  was  soon  found,  and  as  the  white 
man’s  axe  for  the  first  time  since  cedars  grew  upon 
Clarke’s  Island  bit  into  the  heart  of  one  of  their  num- 
ber, we  well  might  fancy  that,  mingling  with  the  east 
wind  and  the  sound  of  the  surf  on  Salthouse  Beach 
rose  the  echo  of  the  dirge,  startling  the  sailors  of  Egean 
shores,  long  before,  — 

“ Pan  is  dead ! Great  Pan  is  dead ! ” 

Late  in  the  afternoon  when  all  the  work  was  done, 
and  the  men  sat  or  lay  around  the  fire  enjoying  the 
Sabbatical  repose  long  distinguishing  the  New  England 


80 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Saturday  evening,  Carver,  Standish,  Bradford,  and 
Winslow  climbed  the  hill  rising  sharply  above  their 
camping-ground,  and  paused  hy  what  is  now  called  Sun- 
set Rock  to  look  about  them. 

“ Clarke’s  Island  is  but  a small  addition  to  King 
James’s  territory,”  said  Winslow  with  his  subtle  smile, 
as  he  glanced  over  the  ninety  acres  of  woodland  lying 
around  him. 

“ Our  own  England  is  not  very  large,”  replied  Carver 
quietly,  “ but  she  hath  long  arms.” 

“ And  I,”  cried  Standish  gayly,  “ am  but  a little 
fellow,  and  yet  am  not  in  the  way  of  calling  upon  bigger 
men  to  protect  me  ! Despise  not  the  day  of  small 
things,  Master  Winslow,  albeit  you  carry  your  head 
some  inches  higher  than  mine.” 

“ There  is  a great  rock  showing  above  the  scrub  oaks 
to  the  north,”  said  Bradford  pointing  in  that  direction. 
“ Let  us  climb  it  and  see  what  lieth  beyond.” 

“ Have  with  you,  brother  ! ” responded  Standish,  and 
forcing  their  way  through  the  stunted  growth  covering 
this  higher  and  bleaker  portion  of  the  island  the  four 
men  soon  stood  at  the  base  of  an  enormous  bowlder 
about  thirty  feet  in  height,  brought  hither  in  some 
glacial  overflow  of  the  forgotten  years. 

On  the  southern  side  a deep  crevice,  worn  by  many 
rains,  offered  a foothold,  even  as  it  does  to-day,  and  in  a 
moment  the  four  Pilgrim  chiefs  stood  upon  the  summit 
and  looked  about  them. 

The  sun  was  setting  in  lavish  gorgeousness,  while  in 
the  deep  blue  vault  arching  overhead  tiny  points  of 
light  showed  where  the  stars  waited  impatiently  to  take 
their  places  and  glorify  the  night. 

T2ie  sea,  almost  black  in  its  depth  of  color,  dashed 


CLARKE’S  ISLAND. 


81 


mournfully  upon  the  rocks  fallen  from  the  high  north- 
ern and  western  bluffs,  and  across  the  wintry  flood  lay 
the  shores  of  what  was  to  be  Duxbury,  running  out  at 
the  south  into  a peninsula,  terminating  in  a bold  summit. 
This  was  Captain’s  Hill,  and  the  Captain  standing  there 
looked  at  it  all  unconsciously  and  said : — 

“ Yonder  is  a spot  that  might  be  made  into  a goodly 
hold  against  any  foe.  With  a piece  or  two  properly 
mounted  on  that  fair  height,  and  a palisado  cutting  off 
the  headland  from  the  main,  it  would  fall  into  as  pretty 
a little  fortalice  as  could  be  asked.” 

“ Too  3mall  a seat  for  our  whole  company,  howbeit,” 
said  Carver  scrutinizing  the  spot. 

“ And  we  must  seek  a river  with  commodious  har- 
bor for  our  fishing  fleet,”  added  Winslow,  not  knowing 
the  capacities  then  of  Jones’s  River  and  Green  Bay, 
hard  by  Captain’s  Hill,  where  he  was  to  spend  the  hon- 
orable evening  of  his  days. 

“ Fishing ! ” echoed  Standish  contemptuously.  “ It 
is  like  those  good  dry-salters  and  drapers  of  London 
town,  who  have  helped  out  our  enterprise,  to  expect  us, 
landing  on  this  barren  shore  in  the  depth  of  winter,  to 
fall  on  fishing  before  we  break  our  fast,  or  build  a shel- 
ter for  our  wives  and  children.  Our  first  work  is  to 
subdue  the  salvages,  to  cut  down  the  forest,  to  build 
houses,  and  plant  crops.  If  we  reach  the  fishing  by 
this  day  twelvemonth  we  shall  have  done  well.” 

“ I fear  me  the  Adventurers  of  whom  you  speak  so 
slightingly  will  hardly  be  of  your  mind,”  replied  Wins- 
low coldly. 

“ Then  let  them  come  over  here  and  collect  their 
profits  for  themselves,”  retorted  Standish.  “ And  well 
would  I like  to  see  Thomas  Weston  and  Robert  Cush- 


82 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


man,  with  some  of  those  smug  London  traders  who 
think  to  buy  good  men’s  lives  and  swords  for  the  price 
of  a red  herring,  set  down  here  to  battle  with  the  frost 
and  snow,  and  sea  and  swamps,  not  to  mention  the 
salvages.  We  should  hear  their  tune  change  from 
4 Fish,  fish,  fish  ! ’ I warrant  me.” 

But  at  this  speech  Winslow,  even  more  of  a diploma- 
tist than  a soldier,  looked  grave,  and  Bradford,  in 
whose  harmonious  character  valor  was  ever  in  accord 
with  reason,  laid  a hand  upon  the  little  Captain’s 
shoulder,  and  said  affectionately  : — 

“ Thy  courage  is  still  so  keen,  Myles,  that  when  thine 
enemies  are  put  to  flight  thou  ’rt  tempted  to  turn  upon 
thy  friends  ! Doubtless  the  Adventurers,  mostly  men 
of  peace,  traders,  if  thou  wilt  have  it  so,  yet  none  the 
worse  for  that,  do  somewhat  fail  to  fathom  the  perils  of 
this  our  undertaking ; still  no  man  is  to  be  condemned 
for  an  honest  misconception,  and  these  same  traders 
have  freely  risked  their  money  to  furnish  us  forth.  We, 
too,  had  never  stood  on  this  rock  to-night  had  not  those 
men  thrust  their  hands  deep  into  their  pockets,  and  is  it 
out  of  reason  for  them  to  ask  to  see  some  return  for 
their  money  as  soon  as  may  be  ? ” 

“Not  out  of  reason  for  traders,  mayhap,”  replied 
Myles  obstinately.  “ I would  that  we  had  come  at  our 
own  charges  altogether.” 

“ Those  of  us  who  had  a little  money  were  not  enough 
to  furnish  forth  those  who  had  none,”  interposed  Carver 
gravely ; “ and  we  have  none  too  many  hands  as  it  is  to 
do  the  work  laid  out  for  us.” 

“ Thou  ’rt  right,  as  thou  mainly  art,  Governor,”  replied 
Standish  good-humoredly  ; “ and  haply ’t  is  well  that  my 
hot  head  is  linked  with  thy  cool  one.” 


CLARKE'S  ISLAND . 


83 


“We  were  all  ill  sped,  lacking  thy  skill  and  valor  in 
war,  Captain,”  replied  Carver  kindly,  and  after  a mo- 
ment’s meditative  silence  he  slowly  added,  — 

“It  ill  befits  finite  man  to  intrude  upon  the  Councils  of 
infinite  wisdom,  and  yet  it  seemeth  borne  strangely  in 
upon  my  mind  that  God  hath  carefully  chosen  His 
weapons  for  the  mighty  conquest  He  hath  set  Himself 
to  make  in  this  wilderness,  and,  if  I may  say  it  without 
grieving  your  modesty,  brethren,  I seem  to  see  in  you, 
standing  with  me  here,  three  chosen  leaders. 

“ A man  of  war,  trained  from  childhood  in  martial 
tactics,  and  in  the  use  of  weapons,  and  of  a singular 
courage  and  determination,  you,  Standish,  are  the 
strong  right  arm  of  the  body  corporate. 

“ And  you,  Winslow,  bred  among  courtiers  and 
statesmen,  subtle  of  intellect,  ready  of  speech,  cool  of 
temper,  and  sound  in  judgment,  in  you  I see  our  am- 
bassador, our  spokesman,  our  counselor  and  adviser, 
our  Chrysostom  of  the  golden  mouth.” 

“ And  Bradford,”  jealously  demanded  Standish  lay- 
ing a hand  upon  the  arm  of  the  future  governor,  for 
whom  he  ever  entertained  a mighty  affection. 

Carver  turned  and  looked  full  into  Bradford’s  stead- 
fast eyes  upraised  to  his,  and  his  own  gaze  became  rapt 
and  well-nigh  prophetic.  When  he  spoke  again  it  was 
in  a lower  and  less  spontaneous  voice. 

“ The  arm  strikes,  the  tongue  parleys,  but  both  must 
be  in  accord  with  the  brain,  or  all  is  lost.  The  father 
of  his  people  must  think  for  all,  plan  for  all,  encourage, 
restrain,  cherish,  discipline  all.  Standish  for  the  camp, 
Winslow  for  the  council,  but  for  you,  Bradford,  the 
sleepless  vigil,  the  constant  watch,  the  self-forgetting 
energy,  whose  fruits  are  safety,  honor,  and  prosperity, 
for  those  who  lean  on  you.” 


84 


STANDI  SH  OF  ST  AN  DISH. 


“ But,  dear  friend,  it  is  you  who  still  must  be  our 
governor,  our  reliance,  our  father ! ” exclaimed  Brad- 
ford eagerly,  but  Carver  turned  away  and  began  the 
steep  descent. 

Those  whom  he  left  looked  earnestly  in  each  other’s 
faces,  yet  said  nothing.  A future  grander,  and  more 
terrible  than  they  had  imagined,  seemed  suddenly  de- 
fined before  them,  and  each  dimly  felt  the  burden  and 
the  honor  of  his  own  part  therein  laid  upon  him. 

As  thus  they  stood,  three  noble  figures  clearly  defined 
against  the  amber  of  the  evening  sky,  Richard  Warren 
and  Stephen  Hopkins  appeared  upon  the  crest  of  the 
hill  and  paused  to  look  about  them. 

“ See  yonder  figures,  looking  as  cut  out  of  stone,  and 
set  up  for  idols  in  the  high  places  of  Baal,”  sneered 
Hopkins.  “ These  be  our  masters,  Warren,  if  so  be  we 
yield  to  them.” 

Warren,  a genial,  honest  gentleman  of  London,  who 
had  thrown  his  entire  patrimony,  as  well  as  his  earnest 
soul,  into  this  enterprise,  shook  his  head  and  laughingly 
replied,  — 

“ Thou  ’rt  ever  too  jealous,  Stephen,  for  thine  own 
comfort.  Our  brethren,  all  unconscious  that  they  make 
so  fine  a show  up  there,  are  giving  their  best  and  their 
all  to  the  common  weal,  and  so  are  we.  If  their  best, 
chance  to  be  gold,  and  ours  but  iron,  think’st  thou  God 
will  value  the  one  offering  above  the  other  ? I trow 
not  man,  and  I am  for  my  part  well  content  as  matters 
stand.” 

“ Nay,”  persisted  Hopkins,  “ but  mark  you  how  con- 
stantly they  slight  us  and  Dotey,  because  we  are  out  of 
England,  and  not  of  Holland,  and  so  not  of  Robinson’s 
Congregation  ? ” 


CLARKE’S  ISLAND . 


85 


“Nay,”  replied  Warren  pacifically;  “I  had  liefer 
mark  the  many  times  we  are  called  to  Council  and  to 
share  in  whatever  good  may  be  toward.  And  mark 
you,  Hopkins,  you  and  I are  the  fathers  of  many  chil- 
dren, and  those  men  have  none  as  yet,  and  this  land 
whose  foundations  must  be  laid  in  our  blood,  if  need  be, 
shall  become  the  inheritance  of  those  we  leave  behind. 
Please  God,  my  five  girls,  coming  hither  so  soon  as  I 
have  a roof  to  shelter  them,  shall  become  the  mothers  of 
soldiers  and  statesmen,  maybe  of  kings,  for  who  knoweth 
what  is  to  come  when  the  seed  sown  in  tears  shall  be 
reaped  in  joy  ! ” 

Hopkins  answered  only  by  a contemptuous  sniff,  and 
the  triumvirate  descending  from  their  pedestal,  all  six 
men  returned  amicably  to  the  camp. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


BURYING  HILL. 

Much  has  been  said  and  written  of  the  Sunday  spent 
by  the  advanced  guard  of  Pilgrims  upon  Clarke's  Isl- 
and, and  a very  modern  tradition  points  to  the  great 
rock  in  the  centre  of  the  island  as  the  scene  of  their 
devotions.  Nothing,  however,  is  less  probable  than 
that  this  handful  of  men,  with  no  pastor  or  even  presid- 
ing elder  among  them,  should  leave  their  encampment 
under  the  bluff,  and  the  neighborhood  of  their  boat,  to 
travel  inland  to  this  bleak  and  exposed  bowlder,  there 
to  set  one  of  their  number  to  exhort  the  rest.  Carver 
certainly  was  a deacon  of  Robinson’s  congregation,  yet 
this  office  gave  him  no  spiritual  authority,  but  rather 
the  duties  of  a warden  in  the  mother  church,  nor  was 
the  governor  a man  to  assume  any  authority  not  his 
own  ; so  although  he  led  the  informal  service  held  in 
that  sheltered  nook,  upon  the  shore,  Winslow  and  Brad- 
ford and  Hopkins  were  the  chief  speakers,  while  John 
Howland  in  his  melodious  and  powerful  voice  raised  a 
psalm  that  made  the  welkin  ring,  and  Richard  Warren 
stoutly  cried  Amen  to  all  the  rest. 

Standish,  his  arms  folded  and  one  hand  resting  upon 
the  hilt  of  Gideon,  stood  a little  apart,  his  head  reverently 
bared  in  the  prayers,  and  with  a rough  attempt  at  melody 
echoing  Howland’s  psalm  ; but  during  the  exhortations 
or  prophesyings,  he  strode  softly  up  and  down  the  beach. 


BURYING  HILL. 


87 


or  mounting  upon  the  bluff  swept  sea  and  land  with  the 
keen  glances  of  eyes  that  nothing  escaped.  Occasionally 
a fervent  word  would  be  sped  in  his  direction  from  one 
or  another,  and  many  a prayer,  as  before  and  after  that 
hour,  was  urged  that  this  bulwark  of  the  church  against 
her  secular  foes  might  become  her  obedient  son.  When 
thus  exhorted  or  prayed  for  the  captain’s  face  became 
a study,  sometimes  so  impenetrably  obtuse,  sometimes  so 
rigid  in  its  obstinacy,  sometimes  touched  with  shrewd 
amusement,  and  sometimes  moved  to  tender  sympathy, 
but  never  to  conviction  or  even  doubt,  and  as  the  years 
went  on,  those  who  loved  him  most,  even  Bradford  and 
Alden  and  Brewster,  ceased  all  effort  to  bring  this 
precious  comrade  into  their  own  fold,  but  learned  to  ac- 
cept him  as  he  was. 

Monday  broke  with  clear  and  gracious  skies  and  a sea 
only  pleasantly  rippled  with  its  late  commotion.  Re- 
freshed and  cheered  by  their  long  rest  the  Pilgrims 
were  early  afoot,  and  at  a good  hour  the  cleaned  and 
furbished  arms  were  packed  in  the  shallop,  the  sail,  bent 
to  its  new  mast,  was  unfurled  to  its  fullest  spread,  and 
the  eighteen  men,  each  at  his  own  post,  eager  and  hope- 
ful. It  had  been  resolved  to  proceed  no  farther  in 
search  of  Coppin’s  harbor,  which  afterward  proved  to 
be  Cut  River  and  the  site  of  Marshfield,  but  to  explore 
the  landlocked  harbor  lying  before  them. 

Carefully  sounding  as  she  went,  the  shallop  felt  her 
way  through  the  Cow  Yard  or  Horse  Market,  around 
Beach  Point,  and  having  the  flood  tide  with  her  rode 
triumphantly  over  Dick’s  Flat  and  Mother  White’s 
Guzzle,  until  finally,  with  furled  sails  and  her  head  to 
the  wind,  she  lay  within  a biscuit  toss  of  the  shore. 

“ See,  there  are  cleared  fields  and  a river  full  of  fish. 


88 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


and  all  things  ready  to  our  hand,”  cried  Howland  ex* 
citedly. 

“ Bring  her  up  to  the  beach,  then,  and  we  will  land 
and  explore,”  replied  Carver,  smiling  at  the  young  man’s 
enthusiasm. 

“ There  is  a rock  a few  rods  ahead  set  ready  for  a 
stepping-stone,”  announced  Howland  standing  in  the 
bows. 

“ Lay  her  up  to  it,  men,”  growled  English,  and  in  a 
moment  the  bows  of  the  shallop  caressingly  touched  the 
cheek  of  that  great  gray  Rock,  itself  a pilgrim,  as  has 
well  been  said,  from  some  far  northern  shore,  brought 
here  by  the  vast  forces  of  Nature,  and  laid  to  wait  in 
grand  patience,  until  the  ages  should  bring  it  a name,  a 
use,  and  a nation’s  love  and  honor. 

“ Jump  then,  lad,  and  see  thou  jump  not  five  fadom 
deep,  as  thou  didst  out  there  in  mid-seas  ! ” cried  Hop- 
kins, and  Howland  leaping  lightly  from  the  boat  to  the 
rock  cried  in  his  blithe  voice,  — 

“ And  I seize  this  mainland  for  King  James,  even  as 
Master  Clarke  did  yon  island.” 

“ Only  thou  dost  not  claim  it  for  thine  own  under  the 
king  as  he  did,”  replied  Coppin. 

“ It  seemeth  to  me,”  said  Carver  as  he  stepped  on 
shore,  “ as  if  this  place  were  fairly  laid  down  on  Smith’s 
map  that  we  were  studying.  Think  you  not  so,  Master 
Winslow?” 

“ Ay,  I believe  it  is  the  place  he  hath  called  Plymouth 
after  our  English  town.” 

“ Why,  then,  if  we  are  minded  to  tarry  here,  it  were 
well  befitting  that  we  should  continue  the  name,  for  our 
Plymouth  brethren  cheered  and  comforted  us  marvel- 
ously in  our  sad  outsetting,”  replied  the  governor,  and 
Bradford  added,  — 


BURYING  HILL. 


89 


“ They  were  in  very  truth  kinder  than  our  own.” 

44  ’T  is  a better  harbor  than  English  Plymouth  can 
boast,”  said  Coppin  turning  to  survey  the  bay. 

44  Harbor  ! English  Plymouth’s  harbor  is  no  better 
than  a slaughter  pen ! Not  less  than  ten  good  ships 
were  pounded  to  pieces  there  in  the  last  year,”  said  the 
sailor  Alderton. 

44  Yes,  ’t  is  worse  than  the  Goodwin  Sands,  if  that  can 
be,”  echoed  English. 

44  While  here  is  a haven  most  artificially  contrived 
for  safety,  with  its  overlapping  arms  and  islands,”  cried 
Clarke. 

44  Ay,  the  islands,  Clarke’s  Island  above  all,  are  such 
as  all  England  cannot  match  ! ” jeered  Coppin,  while 
Howland,  followed  by  the  rest,  began  to  climb  the  bluff 
in  front  of  them,  choosing  almost  by  instinct  the  easy 
ascent  around  its  base,  now  known  as  Leyden  Street. 
A little  above  the  future  site  of  the  Common  house  they 
paused  to  take  breath  and  to  consult. 

44  Yes,  here  is  cleared  land  enow  for  any  crop  we  can 
plant  in  a year  to  come,”  said  Dotey,  looking  approv- 
ingly along  Cole’s  Hill. 

44  And  I hear  the  tinkle  of  water  falling  upon  water,” 
cried  Bradford  gazing  down  toward  the  outlet  of  Town 
Brook.  44  There  must  be  springs  yonder.” 

44  But  fuel  would  needs  be  lugged  on  men’s  backs 
further  than  I for  one  could  fancy,”  grumbled  Hopkins 
glancing  at  the  woods  nowhere  very  near. 

•4  We  can  scarce  hope  for  arable  land  and  dense 
forest  in  one  plot  of  ground,”  remarked  Winslow  dryly. 

44  Let  us  march  into  the  land  and  explore  it  fully,” 
suggested  Carver.  44  Every  man  should  carry  his  piece 
with  lighted  match,  but  the  rest  of  the  gear  may  well  be 


90 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


left  in  the  boat  under  charge  of  the  shipmen.  Master 
Gunner  I advise  thee  to  stay  behind  also.  If  we  meet 
with  the  Indians  and  there  is  any  opening  for  trucking 
I promise  thee  thy  full  share  and  advantage.” 

“ He  who  stays  by  the  stuff  shall  share  with  him  who 
goeth  to  the  battle,”  quoted  Standish,  who  was  well 
versed  in  what  may  be  called  the  military  history  of  the 
Bible. 

“ ’T  is  a venerable  law,  Captain,  and  out  of  a faultless 
code,”  replied  Carver  reverently. 

“ Come  on,  then,  brethren  ! ” cried  Hopkins  striding 
up  the  steep  face  of  Burying  Hill.  The  rest  followed, 
and  on  the  crest  stopped  to  admire  the  magnificent 
view  spread  out  in  the  clear  light  of  the  wintry  morn- 
ing. 

“ Yon  is  a sightly  point  for  a town,”  said  Warren 
pointing  to  Watson’s  Hill. 

“ Too  far  from  the  shore,”  replied  Carver. 

“ And  from  those  tinkling  springs  for  whose  water  I 
already  am  athirst,”  added  Bradford. 

“ Hm  ! hm ! ” growled  Standish  plucking  at  his 
beard  and  pacing  to  and  fro ; “ here  is  the  place  for  a 
stronghold,  Master  Carver,  just  here  where  we  are 
standing.  See  you  now,  from  a breastwork  thrown  up 
hereabout  and  mounted  with  a minion  or  two  a man 
could  sweep  off  an  army.  5T  is  but  a pretty  shot  to  the 
rock  whereon  we  landed,  and  where  any  but  a fool 
would  choose  to  land,  since  it  is  the  only  dry-shod  land- 
ing on  the  beach ; and  here  we  have  Bradford’s  springs 
well  in  range,  and  this  ascent  by  which  we  have  clomb 
thither.  Why,  it  is  a little  Gibraltar  ready  to  our  hand. 
Then  if  the  salvages  approach  by  land,  from  yon  fair 
hill  which  Warren  advises,  our  heavier  guns  will  meet 


BURYING  HILL. 


91 


them  half  way,  and  our  smaller  metal  mow  them  down 
at  close  quarters.  We  are  well  set  forth  in  gun-metal, 
Governor,  for  I saw  to  it  myself ; not  only  minions,  but 
sakers  and  falcons  and  bases,  not  to  mention  each  man’s 
piece,  which  I fain  would  have  had  all  snaphances  like 
mine  own.  Ay,  we  are  well  armed,  and  here  is  our  fort- 
alice.” 

“ But  not  to  my  mind  our  dwelling,  Captain,”  replied 
Carver  pleasantly.  “ Mind  you,  half  our  company  are 
women  and  children,  and  it  were  hard  for  them  to  be 
cooped  up  in  a fort  or  to  descend  and  climb  again  this 
shrewd  ascent  whenever  they  were  athirst.  I say  not 
but  that  a fortification  here  were  admirable  when  we 
come  at  it,  but  methinks  our  dwellings  were  better 
placed  under  its  protection  than  within  it.” 

“ Along  this  course  we  have  just  trod  from  the  rock,” 
suggested  Winslow. 

“ And  tending  toward  the  springs,”  added  Bradford 
with  a smile. 

“ Nay,  man,  come  and  drink  since  thou  ’rt  so  sore 
athirst,”  cried  Hopkins  clapping  him  on  the  back.  “ If 
’t  were  a spring  of  Hollands  now,  or  even  a double  strike 
of  English  ale,  I ’d  race  thee  for  it,  but  never  yet  did  I 
find  my  stomach  clamor  for  cold  water.” 

“ ’T  is  very  delicate  water  for  all  that,”  declared 
Bradford  as  the  two  men,  stumbling  down  the  steep 
descent  of  Spring  Lane,  reached  and  stooped  to  drink 
of  the  spring  at  its  foot. 

“ Too  delicate  for  me,”  retorted  Hopkins ; “ fitter  for 
maids  than  men.” 

“ Well,  beer  is  brewed  of  water  as  well  as  of  barley 
and  hops,”  declared  Bradf  ord ; “ and  thou  ’st  only  to 
raise  the  grain  and  this  fair  spring  will  turn  it  into  beer 
for  thee  at  thy  pleasure.” 


92 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH . 


“ And  here  be  blackberry  briers  for  my  dame  to  brew 
her  wild-berry  wines,  and  lo  you  now,  this  is  sassafras 
whose  roots  are  worth  their  weight  in  gold  to  the  chi- 
rurgeons,  and  these  are  strawberry  leaves.” 

“ And  we  have  seen  cherry  and  plum  stocks  in  abun- 
dance the  way  we  came,”  declared  Bradford  as  the  rest 
of  the  party  straggled  down  the  hill. 

“ Excellent  sand  and  gravel  for  building,”  said  War- 
ren crumbling  the  soil  around  the  spring.  “ Ay,  and 
here  is  clay  to  shape  into  pots  and  pans  when  the  good- 
wives  have  broken  all  they  bring.  ” 

“ Methinks  it  hath  a look  of  fuller’s  clay,  and  so  is 
almost  as  well  for  us  as  soap,”  said  Howland  taking  up 
some  and  washing  his  hands  in  the  brook.  “ There, 
now,  see  you  its  use  ! ” 

“ Have  with  you,  friend,”  cried  Winslow,  daintiest  of 
the  pioneers.  “ Surely  cleanliness  being  next  to  godli- 
ness tendeth  somewhat  to  the  same  satisfaction  ! ” 

The  exploration,  carried  as  far  as  Eel  River  at  the 
south  and  Murdoch’s  Pond  westerly,  lasted  until  night, 
when  the  Pilgrims  bivouacked  on  the  shore,  supping 
merrily  on  some  great  clams  dug  by  the  sailors  and  wild 
fowl  shot  by  Howland  and  Dotey.  Before  they  slept 
under  the  sheltering  brow  of  Cole’s  Hill  it  was  pretty 
well  decided  that  Plymouth,  as  they  began  at  once  to 
call  it,  should  be  their  permanent  dwelling-place,  more 
especially  as  in  their  day-long  explorations  they  had 
seen  no  natives  or  even  their  dwellings,  and  the  site 
seemed  for  some  reason  abandoned  to  their  occupancy. 

But  the  joyous  return  with  good  news  to  those  on 
board  the  Mayflower  was  turned  into  grief  and  dismay 
by  the  tidings  awaiting  the  explorers. 

Dorothy  Bradford  was  dead.  How  it  could  have 


BURYING  HILL. 


93 


happened,  or  just  when,  no  one  knew,  but  on  the  very 
day  after  her  husband’s  departure  she  had  gone  quietly 
on  deck  while  the  rest  of  the  company  were  at  supper 
and  never  was  seen  again ; nor  till  the  sea  gives  up  its 
dead  shall  any  know  the  story  of  that  poor  overwrought 
soul’s  last  fierce  struggle  and  defeat. 

Nor  can  we  speak  of  the  young  husband’s  anguish, 
and  it  may  be  self-reproach,  in  that  awful  hour.  He 
speaks  not  himself  of  this  matter  in  his  journal,  save  in 
briefest  words ; nor  dare  we  intrude  upon  such  matters 
as  lie  between  a man  and  his  God.  But  this  we  may 
say,  that  as  Jacob,  wrestling  with  the  angel  and  over- 
coming, went  halting  all  his  days  from  the  wound  of  that 
strange  conflict,  so  Bradford’s  face  when  he  again  took 
his  place  among  his  fellows  told  of  years  forever  con* 
sumed  in  one  terrible  struggle. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


ROSS* 

Myles  ! ” 

“ Ay,  sweetheart,  here  am  I.” 

“ A little  drink  — nay,  I want  it  not.  I was  dream- 
ing thy  cousin  Barbara  was  making  a sallet,  and  I was 
fain  to  taste  it,  it  looked  so  cool  and  fresh,  — and  I 
wakened.  I would  well  like  some  sallet,  Myles.” 

“ As  soon  as  the  day  dawns,  my  Rose,  I will  go  and 
look  for  herbs.  I marked  some  sorrel  on  the  hill  yester 
e’en,  albeit  something  dry  and  sere.” 

“ Why  doth  the  ship  roll  so  sorely,  Myles  ? ” 

“ Thou  ’rt  not  on  shipboard,  child,  but  in  our  little 
hospital  here  ashore.  Mindest  thou  not  how  thou  didst 
mourn  and  cry  to  me,  ‘ Take  me  ashore,  Myles,  take 
me  ashore,  that  I may  breathe  sweet  air  and  live.’  So 
I lapped  thee  in  blankets  and  brought  thee,  to-morrow 
is  a se’nnight.  Like  you  not  this  sweet  new  dwelling  ? ” 
“ Well  enow  ; but  sweet  air  will  not  make  me  live  if 
the  time  hath  come  for  me  to  die.”  And  the  sick  girl 
smiled  wanly,  inscrutably,  the  smile  of  one  who  knows 
what  he  will  not  say. 

The  face  of  the  fearless  soldier  grew  white  with  ter- 
ror, and  almost  angrily  he  replied,  — 

“ Hush,  child  ! Thy  time  to  die  hath  not  come. 
Never  think  it,  for  it  shall  not  be.” 

“ Nay,  Myles,  thou  canst  not  daunten  Death  with  thy 


ROSE.  95 

stern  voice  and  masterful  eye,  though  thou  canst  quell  a 
score  of  other  foes  with  one  glance.” 

And  Rose,  moving  her  frail  little  hand  toward  the 
sinewy  fist  clenched  upon  the  bed-covering,  slid  a finger 
within  its  grasp,  and  went  softly  on  with  a pathetic  ring 
of  gayety  in  her  voice,  — 

“ I was  dreaming,  too,  of  home,  mine  own  old  home. 
I was  gathering  cowslips  in  the  meadow  at  St.  Mary’s, 
and  mother  stood  by  with  little  Maudlin  in  her  arms. 
They  smiled,  both  of  them,  ah  how  sweetly  they  smiled 
upon  me,  and  I filled  my  pinafore  with  the  cowslips, 
soft,  cool,  wet  cowslips,  — I feel  them  in  my  hand  now, 
so  cool,  so  wet ! Myles,  I fain  would  have  those  cow- 
slips, may  I not  ? ” 

“ Child  ! Child  ! Thou  ’It  break  my  heart  ! ” 

“ Mother  and  Maudlin  both  died  the  year  I saw  thee 
first,  dost  remember,  Myles  ? ” 

“ Try  to  sleep  a little,  my  darling.  I will  say  thee  a 
psalm,  or  perhaps  one  of  those  old  Manx  ballads  thou 
didst  use  to  lilt  so  lightly.” 

“ Mistress  White  says  they  are  ungodly,  and  a snare 
of  Satan,”  replied  Rose  dreamily,  and  before  Myles 
could  utter  the  wrathful  comment  that  quivered  upon 
his  lips  she  went  on,  — 

66  It  was  across  her  grave  I saw  thee,  dear,  dost  mind 
thee  of  that  hour  ? ” 

“ Thy  mother’s  grave  ? ay,  I mind  me.” 

“ Yes,  thou  earnest  with  thy  cousin  Barbara  to  seek 
thy  grandsire’s  gravestone  and  to  search  out  the  muni- 
ments of  thy  race.  Thou  ’It  never  lay  hands  on  that 
inheritance,  Myles.” 

“ I care  not,  so  thou  wilt  get  strong  and  well  again, 
my  Rose,  my  Rose ! ” And  with  a groan  but  half 


96 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


driven  back  upon  his  heart,  the  soldier  turned  his  head 
aside  and  set  his  teeth  upon  his  trembling  lip.  But 
Rose,  more  alive  in  the  past  than  the  present,  rambled 
on  in  her  sweet,  weak  voice,  — 

“‘Not  only  this  wild  hunting  ground  and  ruined  lodge 
where  we  abide,  but  many  a fair  manor  in  England,  and 
many  a stately  home  is  his/  that  was  what  Barbara  told 
me  about  thee  afterward  ; and  when  I praised  thy  pres- 
ence, for  I loved  thee  or  ever  I knew  it  myself,  she 
straightened  her  neck  and  said  full  proudly,  ‘ Ay,  and 
not  only  a goodly  man,  but  a brave  soldier  and  noble 
soul*’  ’T  was  she  who  first  saw  that  thou  lovedst  me, 
Myles,  and  came  and  wept  for  joy  upon  my  neck.” 

“ Peace,  peace,  dear  child.  Thou  wastest  thy  strength 
in  talking  overmuch.  Sleep,  canst  thou  not,  dear 
heart  ? ” 

“ Dost  think  that  Barbara  will  come  hither  ? She 
promised  me  surefast  that  she  would  so  soon  as  there 
was  a company  ready.  She  said  it  was  so  lonely  there 
in  Man  when  I was  gone.  Will  she  come,  think  you, 
Myles  ? ” 

“ Like  enow,  sweetheart.  Barbara  mostly  carries  out 
what  she  promises.  But”  — 

“ And  thou  ’It  be  very,  very  good  to  thy  cousin,  wilt 
thou  not,  Myles  ? Thou  ’rt  all  she  has  now.” 

“ Surely  both  of  us  will  be  good  to  our  kinswoman, 
dear  wife,  and  all  the  more  that,  as  thou  sayest,  it  was 
by  going  to  visit  her  that  I first  saw  thee,  blooming  like 
a very  rose  in  that  gray  old  Manx  churchyard.” 

“ I was  ever  friends  with  Barbara,  but  I loved  her 
all  the  more  for  thy  sake,  dear.  And  she  was  well 
pleased  that  we  two  should  wed  — leastways  she  said 


ROSE . 


97 


“ And  if  she  said  it  she  meant  it,  for  in  all  the  years 
she  tarried  in  my  mother’s  house  I never  knew  her  tell 
a lie  or  wear  two  faces.  But  now,  verily,  child,  I must 
have  thee  rest.  Speak  not  again  unless  thou  needest 
somewhat.  I will  have  it  so,  my  Rose.” 

“ Then  let  me  lay  my  hand  in  thine.  There,  then, 
good-night.” 

“ Good-night,  mine  own.” 

And  while  the  winter  night  lapsed  through  hours  of 
deadly  chill  and  darkness  into  the  sad  twilight  of  early 
morning  the  soldier  sat  motionless,  holding  that  fragile 
hand,  gazing  upon  that  lovely  face,  lovely  yet  so  changed 
from  the  cherubic  beauty  that  had  won  his  heart  amid 
the  summer  fields  of  Man  but  three  short  years  before. 

What  he  thought,  what  he  felt  in  those  hours,  he 
could  not  himself  have  revealed,  for  a man’s  emotion  is 
usually  in  inverse  proportion  to  its  expression,  and 
Myles  Standish  was  essentially  a man  of  action  and  not 
of  words  ; but  God  only  knows  how  these  strong  inarticu- 
late natures  suffer  in  the  agony  that  divides  bone  from 
marrow,  and  yet  leaves  the  sufferer  conscious  of  the 
capacity  to  live  and  to  suffer  yet  again  and  again. 

In  some  respects  this  vigil  resembled  that  of  Bradford 
in  hearing  of  Dorothy’s  death,  in  some  it  was  widely 
different,  for  with  Bradford’s  grief  was  mingled  self- 
reproach  and  keen  introspection  ; he  weighed  his  own 
life,  he  found  it  wanting,  he  condemned  it,  and  offering 
his  suffering  as  righteous  penance,  he  extolled  the  justice 
of  God,  and  submitted  himself  as  a culprit  to  the  scourge. 

But  Standish  thought  neither  of  the  justice  of  God 
nor  of  his  own  demerits,  nor  had  he  skill  or  practice  for 
introspection.  “ A man  under  authority  and  having 
soldiers  under  him,”  he  both  rendered  and  expected 


98 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


obedience,  prompt,  entire,  and  unquestioning.  His  was 
a nature  of  loyalty  so  magnificent  as  to  need  no  but- 
tresses of  reason,  or  of  self -distrust,  a loyalty  so  sweet 
as  to  be  unconscious  of  itself,  a loyalty  so  entire  that  the 
soul  could  not  get  outside  of  it  to  consider  it  objectively. 

The  order  came  from  the  King  of  kings,  and  it  was 
to  be  obeyed,  or  endured  ; the  King  could  do  no  wrong. 

Nor  indeed  had  he  been  skilled  to  search,  could 
Myles  have  found  matter  for  self-reproach  in  all  his 
dealings  with  the  child  dying  at  his  side. 

Busy  from  his  boyhood  in  the  pursuit  of  arms,  and 
loving  his  mother  with  all  the  force  of  his  great  nature, 
the  man  had  cared  little  for  other  women,  turning  with 
scorn  from  the  meretricious  charms  of  those  he  encoun- 
tered in  camp  or  among  his  comrades,  and  finding  no 
time  or  inclination  to  seek  others,  so  that  except  for 
the  light  fancies  of  an  hour,  or  the  calm  affection  for  his 
cousin  Barbara,  whom  he  found  on  one  of  his  visits  to 
his  home  in  Chorley  giving  a daughter’s  tendance  to  his 
mother,  Standish  had  passed  his  three  and  thirtieth 
birthday  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  love,  and  mocking 
at  its  power. 

But  the  first  glance  at  the  lovely  girl  weeping  beside 
her  mother’s  grave  warned  him  that  a new  hour  had 
struck,  and  a new  foe  opposed  him ; nor  was  he  long  in 
making  full  and  frank  surrender  to  an  authority  as  strong 
as  it  was  gentle,  and  as  tyrannous  as  sweet. 

Motionless  and  erect  the  soldier  sat  the  long  night 
through,  and  as  if  she  gathered  strength  from  the  grasp 
of  his  healthy  hand,  Rose  slept  quietly  until  the  sun 
rose,  and  the  women  still  well  enough  to  wait  upon  th© 
sick  came  softly  in. 

Then  she  opened  her  eyes,  fixed  them  upon  his  with 
a tender  smile,  and  said,  — 


ROSE. 


99 


“ Poor  Myles  ! Thou  hast  watched  all  night  while 
selfish  I held  thee  and  slept.  But  now  begone  and  get 
thine  own  rest  and  food.  I shall  do  well  with  these 
kind  friends.” 

“ I ’ll  leave  thee,  then,  for  a little,  but  I shall  not  be 
far  away,  and  if  thou  needest,  send,”  replied  her  hus 
band  releasing  his  hand  from  the  frail  yet  burning 
grasp  that  still  held  him.  “ Dame  Turner,  thou  ’It  see 
that  I am  called  if  she  asks  for  me,  wilt  thou  ? ” 

“ Surely,  Captain,  but  she  is  doing  bravely  this  morn- 
ing, and  you  had  better  rest.” 

“ Nay,  but  let  her  not  ask  twice  for  me,  or  aught 
else.” 

Leaving  the  house,  and  drawing  one  or  two  eager 
breaths  of  fresh  air,  Standish  climbed  the  hill  where  al- 
ready the  fortification  he  had  proposed  was  nearly  com- 
plete, though  not  yet  armed.  Stepping  upon  a great 
beam,  squared  but  not  laid  in  place,  he  stood  looking 
around  him  as  if  to  see  what  Nature  and  his  own  work 
could  offer  to  fill  the  great  gulf  opening  in  the  future. 

A light  fog  still  clung  to  the  face  of  the  water  and 
hung  in  the  hollows  of  the  hills  ; shrouded  in  its  folds 
the  Mayflower  lay  like  a spectre  ship,  ugly,  unsafe,  full 
of  discomfort  and  misery,  but  yet  the  only  link  between 
this  handful  of  dying  men  and  their  home.  Standish 
gazed  at  her  with  a gathering  darkness  upon  his  face, 
until  the  burden  of  his  thought  broke  out  in  a savage 
murmur,  — 

u Couldst  not  make  thy  way  through  yonder  shoals 
and  bring  us  to  the  fair  shores  I told  her  of  ! If  it  be 
thy  fault,  Thomas  Jones ! ” — 

The  slow  clenching  of  a jaw  square  and  strong  as  a 
mastiff’s  finished  the  sentence,  and  Standish’s  eyes  came 


100 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


back  to  the  rude  hut  where  all  he  loved  lay  dying,  per- 
haps through  tills  man’s  fault.  At  his  feet  lay  the 
sketch  as  it  were  of  the  town  he  and  his  comrades  had 
laid  down  in  outline,  and  intended  to  build  up  as  time 
and  strength  allowed.  Already  Leyden  Street,  or  The 
Street,  as  it  was  at  first  called,  lay  a distinct  thorough- 
fare from  the  Rock  to  the  Fort,  the  eastern  and  western 
extremities  of  the  village.  Along  this  street  were  staked 
out  plots  of  land,  some  larger  and  some  smaller  in  the 
proportion  of  eight  feet  frontage  to  each  person  in  a 
family,  the  single  men,  and  those  women  and  children 
already  left  desolate,  being  divided  among  the  house- 
holders, and  the  whole  company  reduced  to  nineteen 
families. 

Standish’ s own  house,  not  yet  finished,  lay  nearest  to 
the  Fort,  which  with  its  armament  were  to  be  his  especial 
charge,  and  several  of  the  single  men  had  been  appointed 
to  his  family.  Their  own  illness,  and  that  of  Mistress 
Standish  had,  however,  interfered  with  this  arrange- 
ment, and  only  John  Alden  shared  the  house  as  yet  with 
Standish,  the  two  men  sometimes  eating  at  the  Common 
house,  the  only  one  except  the  hospital  really  finished, 
and  sometimes  cooking  for  themselves  such  food  as  they 
could  lay  hands  upon,  for  the  house,  unlike  some  of  the 
others,  already  boasted  a chimney  laid  up  of  sticks  and 
clay,  and  showed  a generous  fireplace  in  the  larger  or 
living  room  which,  with  two  little  sleeping-rooms  and  a 
loft,  comprised  the  whole  accommodation. 

Upon  this  little  home  so  hopefully  begun,  so  neglected 
during  the  last  ten  days,  Myles  gazed  long  and  wist- 
fully, smiling  sadly  as  he  saw  Alden  come  out  and  look 
up  and  down  the  street  for  him,  finally  going  to  seek 
him  in  the  Common  house,  a substantial  structure  some 


ROSE. 


101 


twenty  feet  square,  built  of  hewn  oaken  logs,  fitted  to*, 
gether  as  closely  as  possible,  and  the  crevices  stopped 
with  clay,  which  freely  washed  out  in  stormy  weather. 

The  roof,  like  ail  the  rest,  was  covered  with  thatch 
formed  of  dried  reeds  and  grasses,  and  the  windows 
were  filled  with  oiled  linen  instead  of  glass,  still  an 
article  of  costly  luxury.  Above  the  Common  house 
stood  the  building  which  the  increasing  mortality  of  the 
colony  had  demanded  as  a hospital,  and  below  it  was  the 
storehouse,  where  most  of  the  common  stock  of  goods 
was  collected,  although  some  of  the  passengers  and  their 
possessions  still  remained  on  board  the  brig,  where 
Jones  gave  them  but  scant  hospitality  or  kindness. 

Folding  his  arms  more  closely  as  the  chill  wind  of 
February  swept  in  from  seaward,  Standish  gazed  upon 
all  these  objects  as  if  they  for  the  first  time  attracted 
his  attention,  and  then,  as  the  lifting  fog  revealed  the 
distant  landscape,  he  turned  and  fixedly  regarded  Cap- 
tain's Hill  rising  in  its  bold  isolation  to  the  north.  Long 
he  gazed,  and  then,  slightly  shaking  his  head,  stepped 
down  from  the  beam  and  paced  about  the  little  enclos- 
ure, half  unconsciously  examining  the  work  of  platform 
and  parapet,  and  following  with  a gunner’s  eye  the 
range  of  the  pieces  yet  unmounted  ; pausing  longest  be- 
fore the  eastern  front,  he  marked  with  satisfaction  how 
well  the  minion  there  to  be  placed  would  guard  the 
landing  and  sweep  the  solitary  street,  and  even  knelt 
to  look  along  its  imaginary  barrel. 

Rising  he  brushed  tne  soil  from  his  knees  with  almost 
a smile,  muttering,  — 

“ Ay,  lad,  thou  ’rt  needed,  thou  ’rt  needed,  and  he 
who  is  needed  has  no  right  to  desert  his  post.” 

But  suddenly  the  smile  faded,  for  as  he  turned  to 


102 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


leave  the  Fort  his  eyes  fell  upon  Cole’s  Hill,  where  but 
a few  rods  from  the  Common  house,  and  under  its  pro- 
tection, they  had  dug  the  graves  of  those  already  dead, 
and  where  lay  room  enough  for  many  more.  But  his 
battle  fought,  and  his  mind  resolved,  Myles  was  too 
much  master  of  himself  to  need  a second  conflict,  and 
setting  his  lips  firmly  beneath  the  tawny  moustache  that 
shaded  them,  he  strode  down  the  hill,  and  at  his  own 
door  found  John  Alden  waiting  for  him  and  changing 
greetings  with  a party  of  four  men  armed  with  sickles 
and  attended  by  two  dogs. 

“ Wish  you  good-morrow,  Captain,”  said  the  foremost, 
a sturdy  young  fellow  with  a pleasant  English  face. 

“ Good-morrow  Peter  Browne,  and  you,  John  Good- 
man,” replied  the  captain  cordially.  “ Whither  away  ? ” 

“ To  cut  thatch  in  the  fields  nigh  yon  little  pond,” 
replied  Browne  pointing  in  a westerly  direction.  “ And 
I am  taking  Nero  along  to  give  account  of  any  Indians 
that  may  be  lurking  there.” 

“ And  John  Goodman’s  spaniel  to  rouse  the  game  for 
Nero  to  pull  down,”  said  Standish  with  a smile.  “ Well, 
God  speed  you.” 

And  turning  into  the  unfinished  house  he  found  Al- 
den watching  him  with  a look  of  silent  friendliness  and 
sympathy  more  eloquent  than  words ; returning  the 
greeting  as  mutely  and  as  heartily,  Standish  would  have 
passed  into  his  own  bedroom,  but  the  younger  man  in- 
terposed, — 

“ Thou  ’It  break  thy  fast,  Captain,  wilt  thou  not  ? All 
is  ready  and  waiting  your  coming  ; some  of  the  bean 
soup  you  liked  yester  even,  and  some  fish  ” — 

“ Presently,  presently,  good  John ! I would  but 
bathe  and  refresh  mj^self.  Nay,  look  not  so  doubt- 


ROSE.  103 

ingly  after  me,  friend.  I am  a man,  and  know  a man’s 
devoir.” 

He  spoke  with  a smile  as  brave  as  it  was  gentle,  and 
passing  in  closed  the  door. 

“ Doth  he  know  she  is  dying  ! ” muttered  John  throw- 
ing himself  upon  a bench ; “ and  Priscilla  sickening  and 
her  mother  dead  ! ” 


CHAPTER  X. 


A TERRIBLE  NIGHT. 

As  Standish  entered  his  own  house  the  four  men  to 
whom  he  had  spoken  passed  on  around  the  base  of  the 
hill,  and  reaching  a tract  of  swampy  land  covered  with 
reeds  and  rushes  suitable  for  thatching,  they  set  to  work 
cutting  them  and  binding  in  bundles  ready  for  use.  For 
some  hours  they  wrought  industriously,  until  Peter 
Browne,  commander  of  the  expedition,  straightened  his 
back,  stretched  his  cramped  arms,  and  gazing  at  the 
sun  announced,  — 

“Noontime,  men.  We’ll  e’en  rest  and  eat  our 
snack.” 

“ Art  thou  o’  mind  to  come  and  show  me  the  pond 
where  thou  sawest  wild  fowl  t’  other  day  ? ” asked  John 
Goodman,  townsman  and  friend  of  Browne’s. 

“ Ay,  will  I.  Take  thy  meat  in  thy  hand  and  come 
along,”  replied  Browne.  “ And  we  may  as  well  finish 
our  day  there,  sith  this  spot  is  well  nigh  stripped. 
Margeson  and  Britteridge,  when  you  have  fed,  you  can 
bind  the  rushes  that  are  cut,  and  then  come  after  us  as 
far  as  a little  pond  behind  that  hill,  due  west  from  here 
1 should  say.  You  ’ll  find  it  easily  enough.” 

“ Oh,  ay,  we  ’ll  find  it,”  replied  Margeson,  a rough 
companion,  but  a good  worker.  “ Go  on  mates,  and 
take  your  dogs  with  you,  for  they  ’re  smelling  at  the 
victuals  enough  to  turn  a man’s  stomach.  Get  out  you 
beast ! ” and  raising  his  foot  he  offered  to  kick  Nero, 


A TERRIBLE  NIGHT.  105 

who  growled  menacingly  and  showed  a formidable  set 
of  teeth. 

“ Have  a care,  man  ! ” cried  Browne  angrily.  “ Med- 
dle with  that  dog  and  he  ’ll  make  victual  of  thee  before 
thou  knowest  what  ails  thee.  ’T  is  ever  a poor  sign 
when  a man  cannot  abear  dogs  or  children.” 

And  the  two  friends,  followed  by  the  mastiff  and 
spaniel,  walked  rapidly  away.  Two  hours  passed  while 
Margeson  and  Britteredge,  not  greatly  in  haste,  finished 
their  lunch  and  tied  and  stacked  the  reeds  already  cut. 
Then  shouldering  their  sickles  they  leisurely  skirted  the 
hill  in  front  of  them,  and  after  a little  search  came  upon 
the  pretty  sheet  of  water  now  called  Murdoch’s  Pond 
“ This  will  be  the  place,”  said  Margeson  looking  about 
him  ; “ but  where  is  pepperpot  Browne  ? ” 

“ Or  his  dog  ? ” suggested  Britteridge  slyly. 

“ Whistle  and  the  beasts  will  hear  us  if  the  men  do 
not,”  said  Margeson  suiting  the  action  to  the  word.  No 
answer  followed,  and  both  men  together  raised  a yet 
shriller  note,  followed  by  shouts,  halloos,  and  various 
noises  supposed  to  carry  sound  to  the  farthest  limits  of 
space.  But  each  effort  died  away  in  dim  and  distant 
echoes  among  the  hills,  and  after  a while  the  men  looked 
at  each  other  in  half  angry  discouragement. 

“ They  We  played  us  a trick,”  said  Margeson ; “ they  ’re 
hiding  to  mock  at  us,  or  they  ’ve  gone  back  to  the  village 
some  other  way.” 

“ Nay,”  replied  Britteridge  pacifically ; “ they  ’re  not 
such  babes  as  to  play  tricks  like  that.  See,  here  are 
goodly  reeds ; let  us  cut  and  bind  some  while  we  tarry, 
and  Browne  will  be  back  anon.” 

Grumbling  and  unconvinced  Margeson  still  complied, 
and  for  a while  longer  the  two  worked  fitfully,  pausr 


106 


STANDISH  OF  STAND1SH. 


ing  now  and  again  to  look  about  them,  to  listen,  or  to 
shout. 

At  last,  by  tacit  consent,  both  threw  down  their  tools, 
and  with  slow,  half-fearful  gaze  surveyed  the  scene.  It 
was  a dismal  one.  The  sun  had  reached  the  tops  of  the 
pines,  and  already  the  water  lay  in  black  shadow  at  their 
feet,  rippled  by  the  small,  bitter  breeze  creeping  in  from 
seaward,  and  stirring  the  sedge  into  faint  whisperings 
and  moanings  ; night  birds,  awaking  in  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  uttered  querulous  cries,  and  strange,  vague  sounds 
within  the  covert  suggested  prowling  beast  or  savage 
creeping  near  and  nearer. 

“ Ugh ! ’t  is  a grewsome  spot  as  ever  I saw/’  said 
Margeson  as  softly  as  if  he  feared  to  be  overheard. 
u Certes  the  men  have  gone  home  some  other  way,  and 
the  sun  is  setting.  Let  us  be  after  them,  say  I.” 

“ And  say  I,”  replied  Britteridge  readily,  and  with- 
out more  words  the  two  men  hurried  away,  and  in  a 
brief  half  hour  presented  themselves  before  the  governor 
with  news  that  their  comrades  were  not  to  be  found, 
either  in  the  field  or  the  town,  and  doubtless  were  lost 
in  the  forest  or  captured  by  the  Indians. 

Carver,  ever  as  ready  to  act  as  to  command,  armed 
himself  at  once,  and  summoning  such  men  as  were  on 
shore  led  them  to  the  wood,  where  by  calling,  firing 
their  pieces,  and  kindling  torches  they  protracted  the 
search  far  into  the  night,  and  when  forced  to  give  it  up 
until  daylight  returned  to  the  Common  house  for  united 
and  fervent  prayers  and  supplications. 

Early  in  the  morning  another  search  party,  headed 
by  Stephen  Hopkins,  with  Billington  as  scout,  entered 
the  woods,  but  having  traversed  a radius  of  seven  or 
eight  miles  returned  at  night  weary,  footsore,  and  with 
no  tidings. 


A TERRIBLE  NIGHT. 


107 


News  of  the  loss  was  carried  on  board  the  Mayflower, 
and  a heavy  sense  of  misfortune  and  danger  settled 
upon  the  little  community  already  depressed  by  disease 
and  want. 

The  men  thus  mourned  were  meantime  in  nearly  as 
evil  case  as  was  feared. 

Just  before  arriving  at  the  pond,  while  munching  their 
frugal  lunch  and  discussing  the  prospect  of  game,  they 
espied  a splendid  stag  who  had  evidently  been  disturbed 
while  drinking,  and  stood  with  head  erect  and  dilated 
eyes  gazing  upon  the  first  white  men  he  had  ever  seen, 
and  perhaps  foreboding  the  war  of  extermination  they 
had  come  to  wage  on  him  and  his. 

“ Oh  for  a piece  ! ” cried  Browne  raising  an  imaginary 
gun  to  his  shoulder.  “ Seize  him,  Nero  ! Take  him, 
good  dog  ! Hi ! Away,  away ! ” 

Nero  needing  no  second  invitation  uttered  a deep  bay 
and  set  off,  followed  by  the  spaniel,  yelping  to  the  ex- 
tent of  her  powers,  while  the  two  men,  reckless  of  the 
fact  that  they  were  unarmed  save  with  sickles,  and  could 
never  hope  to  overtake  the  deer  on  foot,  bounded  after 
as  fast  as  they  could  lay  legs  to  the  ground,  nor  paused 
until  utterly  blown  and  exhausted  and  the  chase  out  of 
sight  and  hearing. 

4<  Hah ! ” panted  Browne  flinging  himself  upon  the 
ground ; “ I have  n’t  been  breathed  like  that  since  I ran 
in  the  foot-race  at  home  in  Yorkshire  five  year  agone. 
Phew  ! ” 

Goodman  only  replied  by  inarticulate  groans  and 
wheezes,  and  while  he  yet  struggled  for  breath  Nero 
came  trotting  back  through  the  woods  with  a mortified 
and  contrite  expression  pervading  his  body  from  eloquent 
eyes  to  abject  tail,  while  Pike,  as  the  spaniel  was  called, 


108 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


followed  at  some  distance  with  an  affected  carelessness 
of  demeanor  as  if  she  would  have  it  clearly  understood 
that  she  had  been  running  solely  for  her  own  pleasure, 
with  no  idea  of  chasing  the  deer.  The  men  laughed, 
and  patting  their  favorites  allowed  them  to  lie  and  rest 
for  some  moments  ; then  as  the  air  grew  chill  they  rose 
and  strolled  in  the  direction,  as  they  supposed,  of  the 
clearing  where  they  had  left  their  comrades.  But  the 
wood  was  thick,  and  several  swampy  hollows  induced  de- 
tours ; the  sun  was  obscured  by  the  gathering  snow 
clouds,  and  neither  man  was  skilled  in  woodcraft ; while 
the  dogs,  roaming  at  pleasure,  were  more  intent  upon 
tracing  various  scents  of  game  than  of  finding  the  way 
home.  Thus  it  came  that  as  darkness  began  to  gather 
visibly  among  the  crowding  evergreens,  and  the  last 
tinge  of  sunlight  was  buried  in  thickening  clouds,  the 
two  men  stopped  and  looked  each  other  squarely  in  the 
face. 

“ Yes,  John,”  said  Browne  reading  the  frightened  eyes 
of  his  younger  and  less  courageous  companion.  u Yes, 
lad,  we  ’re  lost,  and  I doubt  me  must  pass  the  night  in 
the  woods.” 

“ And  we  lack  not  only  food  but  cloaks  and  weap- 
ons! ” exclaimed  Goodman  looking  forlornly  about  him, 
and  stooping  to  pat  Pike,  who  scenting  disaster  in  the 
air  had  returned  whimpering  to  her  master’s  side. 

“ If  we  could  but  find  some  deserted  hut  of  the  sal- 
vages, or  some  of  their  stored  grain,  or  even  the  venison 
we  disdained  the  other  day,”  suggested  Browne. 

“ We ’ve  seen  no  trace  of  such  a thing  to-day,”  re- 
plied Goodman  disconsolately. 

“ Come  on,  then,  and  let  us  look  while  daylight  lin- 
gers. Mayhap  the  dogs  will  lead  us  out  if  we  put 
them  to  it.  Hi,  Nero  ! Home  boy,  home  ! Seek  ! ” 


A TERRIBLE  NIGHT 


109 


Nero  whimpered  intelligently  and  trotted  on  for  a 
mile  or  so,  but  with  none  of  that  appearance  of  convic- 
tion which  sometimes  gives  to  an  animal’s  proceedings 
the  force  of  an  inspiration.  Browne,  who  knew  his  dog 
well,  felt  the  discouragement  of  his  movement,  and 
finally  stopped  abruptly. 

“ Nay,  he  knows  no  home  in  this  wilderness  and  feels 
no  call  to  one  place  more  than  another.  ’T  is  past  pray- 
ing for,  John  ; we  must  e’en  make  up  our  minds  to  sleep 
here.  Suppose  that  we  lie  down  in  the  lee  of  these 
nut-bushes,  call  the  dogs  to  curl  up  beside  us,  and  try  to 
keep  life  going  till  morning ; no  doubt  we  shall  find 
the  way  out  then,  or  at  least  somewhat  to  eat.” 

“ My  blood  is  like  ice  already,”  murmured  Goodman 
burying  his  hands  in  the  spaniel’s  curly  hair. 

“ If  we  had  but  flint  and  steel  to  make  a fire  it  were 
something  ! ” exclaimed  Browne.  “ What  Jack-o’-Bed- 
lams  we  were  to  set  off  thus  unprovided.  Catch  me  so 
again  ! ” 

“ But  we  came  out  to  cut  thatch,  not  to  chase  deer 
and  get  lost  in  the  woods,”  suggested  Goodman  trying 
to  laugh,  though  his  teeth  chattered  like  castanets. 

“ It  will  never  do  for  thee  to  lie  down  as  chilled  as 
thou  art,”  exclaimed  Browne  anxiously.  “ I promised 
thy  old  mother  I ’d  have  an  eye  to  thee,  and  lo  it  is  I 
that  have  led  thee  into  this  mischance  ! What  shall  I 
do  for  thee  ? I have  it,  lad  ! Sith  it  is  too  dark  and 
rough  to  walk  farther  I ’ll  try  a fall  with  thee  ; there ’s 
naught  warms  a man’s  blood  like  a good  wrestling 
match.  Come  on,  then  ! ” 

“ I ’m  no  match  for  thee,  Peter,  but  here  goes  ! ” re- 
plied Goodman  struggling  to  his  feet,  and  the  two  men 
joined  there  in  the  darkness  and  the  wilderness  in  what 


110 


STANDTSH  OF  STANDISH. 


might  truly  be  called  a “ joust  of  courtesy,”  moved  only 
by  mutual  love  and  good  will,  for  the  event  proved  Good- 
man’s modesty  well  founded,  and  it  was  only  a few  mo- 
ments before  Browne,  raising  his  slender  opponent  in 
his  arms,  set  him  down  sharply  two  or  three  times  upon 
his  feet,  saying,  — 

“ I ’ll  not  throw  thee,  for  that  might  prove  small  kind* 
ness.  Art  warmer  ? ” 

But  before  Goodman  could  answer  a snarling  cry 
broke  from  the  thicket  close  at  hand,  and  was  answered 
by  another  and  another  voice  until  the  air  seemed  filled 
with  the  cries  of  howling  fiends. 

Nero  started  to  his  feet,  his  eyes  glowing,  the  hair 
bristling  stiffly  upon  his  neck,  and  with  a fierce  growl  of 
defiance  would  have  sprung  forward  had  not  his  master 
seized  him  by  the  collar  exclaiming,  — 

“ Nay,  fool ! wouldst  rush  on  thy  destruction  ! ” 

“ ’T  is  the  salvages  ! ” stammered  Goodman  staring 
about  him  in  the  darkness. 

“ Nay,  ’t  is  lions,”  replied  Browne.  “ Hopkins  saith 
they  swarm  about  here.  We  must  climb  a tree,  John. 
Here  is  a stout  one  ; up  with  thee,  man,  as  fast  as  may 
be  ! ” 

“ But  thou,  Peter  ? ” asked  John  clambering  into  the 
oak  his  friend  pointed  out. 

“ I cannot  leave  Nero.  He  ’ll  be  gone  to  the  lion  so 
soon  as  I quit  my  hold  of  his  collar,  and  I ’ll  not  lose 
him  but  in  sorer  need  than  this.  Here,  take  thou  the 
spaniel  and  hold  her  to  thee  for  warmth.” 

“ Nay,  I ’ll  not  be  safe  and  thou  in  danger,”  replied 
the  young  man  springing  down ; “ and,  moreover,  it  is 
deadly  cold  perching  in  a tree.” 

“ Well,  then,  we  ’ll  both  stand  on  our  guard  here* 


A TERRIBLE  NIGHT. 


Ill 


and  if  the  lions  come  we  ’ll  e’en  up  in  the  tree  hand  over 
hand  and  leave  the  poor  beasts  to  their  fate.  Stamp 
thy  feet  on  the  ground  and  walk  a few  paces  up  and 
down,  John.  I fear  me  thou ’It  swound  with  the  cold 
like  poor  Tilley.” 

“ I could  not  well  be  colder  and  live,”  replied  Good- 
man faintly,  as  he  tried  to  follow  his  friend’s  injunction. 

The  night  crept  on,  with  frost  and  snow  and  icy  rain 
and  heavy  darkness,  and  still  the  wolves  prowled  howl- 
ing around  their  prey,  and  the  good  dog  held  them  at 
bay  with  savage  growls  and  deep-throated  yelps  of  de- 
fiance, and  his  master,  caring  more  for  the  humble  friend 
he  had  reared  and  brought  over  seas  from  his  English 
home  than  for  his  own  safety,  held  him  all  night  by  the 
collar,  and  the  spaniel  whimpered  with  cold  and  terror 
in  her  master’s  arms,  and  he,  poor  lad,  suffered  all  the 
anguish  of  death  as  his  feet  and  legs  chilled  and  stif- 
fened and  froze  like  ice.  A night  not  to  be  numbered 
in  those  men’s  lives  by  hours  but  years,  a night  of  ex* 
haustion,  terror,  and  agony,  a night  hopeless  of  morn- 
ing save  through  the  exceeding  mercy  of  God. 

The  gray  light  broke  at  last,  however,  and  with  it  the 
wolves  grew  mute  and  slunk  away,  Nero  quieted  into 
obedience,  and  Browne  carefully  straightening  his  own 
stiffened  joints  and  rising  to  his  feet  looked  into  his 
comrade’s  face  and  shook  his  head. 

“ John,  hearken  to  me,  lad  ! We  ’re  in  a sore  strait 
but  we  ’re  not  dead,  and  daylight  hath  broken.  Hold 
up  thy  face  to  the  sky,  man,  and  say  ‘ 1 will  win  through 
this,  so  help  me  God  ! ’ and  having  said  it,  stick  to  it, 
even  as  Nero  would  have  stuck  to  yon  lion’s  throat  until 
he  was  clawed  away  in  shreds.  Come,  try  it,  my  lad, 
try  it ! ” 


112 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Catching  something  of  his  friend’s  heroic  spirit  the 
poor  fellow  did  as  he  was  bidden,  hut  followed  the  brave 
resolve  with  a piteous  look  into  the  other’s  face  while 
he  said,  — 

“ My  feet  are  froze,  Peter ; there  is  no  feeling  nor 
power  in  them.  But  lead  on,  and  I will  follow  if  I 
must  crawl.” 

“ Tarry  a bit  till  I see  ” — 

And  not  pausing  to  finish  his  sentence  Browne  set 
himself  to  climb  the  tree  beneath  which  they  had  passed 
the  night.  His  cramped  limbs  and  benumbed  fingers 
made  this  no  easy  task  and  more  than  once  he  was  near 
losing  his  grasp  and  finishing  the  story  by  a headlong 
fall  to  the  frozen  earth,  but  this  danger  was  passed  also, 
and  presently  hastening  down  he  said,  — 

“ Well,  heavy  though  the  clouds  be  I can  see  that 
east  is  that-a-way,  and  not  far  from  us  rises  a high  hill. 
Come,  then,  lean  on  me  ; pass  thy  arm  around  my 
shoulders  this  fashion  and  I will  help  thee  on.  Then  I 
will  leave  thee  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  and  myself  climb 
it,  and  if  need  be  some  tree  upon  its  summit.  From 
that  I shall  surely  catch  sight  of  the  sea,  and  knowing 
that  we  know  all  we  need.” 

Goodman  silently  laid  his  arm  around  the  stalwart 
shoulders  presented  to  him,  but  found  himself  too  weak 
and  spent  for  other  reply,  and  Browne,  passing  an  arm 
around  his  waist,  looked  anxiously  into  his  face,  say- 
ing,— 

“ Courage,  lad,  courage  ! ” 

“ Ay,  I will,  by  God’s  help  ! ” murmured  the  poor 
lad  as  with  agony  inexpressible  he  forced  his  stiffened 
limbs  to  follow  one  after  the  other. 

The  hill,  more  distant  than  Browne  had  supposed,  was 


A TERRIBLE  NIGHT. 


113 


only  reached  after  two  hours  of  agonizing  effort,  and  at 
the  foot  Goodman  sank  speechless  and  exhausted,  his 
eyes  closed,  his  parted  lips  white  and  drawn.  Browne 
looked  at  him  despairingly,  and  calling  the  dogs  made 
one  crouch  at  either  side  close  to  the  heart  and  lungs  of 
the  prostrate  body,  and  then  hastened  on  up  the  hill 
muttering,  — 

“ ’Tis  best  kindness  to  leave  him.”  Half  an  hour 
later  he  came  crashing  down  again  through  underbrush 
and  fallen  branches  shouting,  — 

“ Courage,  John  ; courage,  man  ! From  the  top  of 
the  biggest  tree  on  this  hill  I ’ve  seen  not  only  the  sea, 
but  our  own  harbor,  and  the  old  brig  rocking  away  as 
peacefully  as  may  be.  Think  of  the  good  friends  and 
the  good  Hollands  gin  and  the  good  fires  aboard  of  her. 
Come,  rouse  up,  lad  ! Once  more  pluck  up  thy  courage 
and  remember  thy  resolve  ! ’T  is  but  another  hour  or 
so  and  we  are  there  ! ” 

And  yet  the  good  fellow  knew  that  not  one  but  many 
hours  lay  before  them,  and  that  it  was  for  him  to  find 
strength  and  endurance  for  both. 

Once  more  his  cheery  voice  and  assured  courage  con- 
veyed power  for  another  effort  to  the  half-dead  lad  he 
almost  carried  in  his  arms,  and  so,  with  frequent  pauses 
for  rest  and  encouragement,  the  day  wore  past,  until  at 
last  on  the  brow  of  Watson's  Hill,  Browne,  his  own 
strength  all  but  spent,  cried  tremulously,  — 

“ Now  God  be  praised  ! here  is  the  harbor  at  our  feet, 
yonder  is  the  Mayflower,  below  is  the  village,  and  but  a 
few  moments  more  will  bring  thee,  John,  to  a bed  and 
Surgeon  Fuller’s  care,  and  me  to  a fire  and  some  boiling 
schnapps.” 

“ God  indeed  be  praised  ! ” murmured  Goodman 


114 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


rousing  himself  for  the  final  effort ; and  so  it  came  to 
pass  that  just  at  sunset  the  two  crossed  the  brook  and 
came  hobbling  down  The  Street  amid  a clamorous  and 
joyful  crowd  of  friends  who  lifted  Goodman  from  his 
feet,  nor  paused  until  they  brought  them  both  into  the 
house  where  abode  Carver  and  also  Fuller,  the  shrewd 
and  crabbed  physician  and  philanthropist.  Here  Good- 
man was  laid  upon  a bed,  his  shoes  cut  from  his  feet, 
and  in  a few  moments  the  governor  on  one  side  and  the 
doctor  on  the  other  were  vigorously  rubbing  the  frozen 
limbs  with  alcohol. 

“ Shall  I lose  my  feet,  Doctor  ? ” asked  the  patient 
feebly. 

“ Lose  them  ! ” cried  the  doctor  indignantly.  “ Nay  ! 
what  use  would  a footless  man  be  to  the  Adventurers 
who  sent  thee  out  ? ’T  were  but  a knave’s  trick  for  thee 
to  shed  thy  feet  first  thing,  and  I ’ll  see  to  it  thou  dost 
not.” 

“ And  that ’s  a comfortable  saying,  Master  Fuller,” 
said  Browne  standing  anxiously  by. 

“ Thou  here,  Peter  Browne  ! ” exclaimed  the  doctor 
glancing  up  under  his  shaggy  brows.  “ What  art  doing 
here,  blockhead  ? Get  thee  into  bed  beside  a good 
fire,  and  bid  Hopkins  mix  thee  a posset  such  as  he  would 
have  for  himself.  Be  off,  I say  1 ” 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLE’S  HILL. 

The  next  day  both  Carver  and  Bradford  were  forced 
to  succumb  under  the  epidemic  already  raging  among 
the  colonists,  and  in  another  fortnight  the  hospital  and 
Common  house  were  crowded  to  their  utmost  capacity 
with  the  beds  of  the  ill  and  dying.  The  terrible  colds 
taken  in  the  various  explorations,  the  vile  food  and  bad 
air  of  the  brig,  with  the  want  of  ordinary  comforts  on 
shore,  were  at  last  bearing  their  fruit  in  a combination 
of  scurvy,  rheumatism,  and  typhoid  fever  of  a malig- 
nant type.  On  board  ship  matters  were  even  worse 
than  on  shore,  and  Jones,  who  would  willingly  have 
abandoned  the  settlers  as  soon  as  they  were  debarked, 
found  himself,  perforce,  a sharer  in  their  distress  through 
the  illness  and  death  of  his  crew,  and  the  danger  of  run- 
ning short  of  provisions. 

The  day  came  at  length  when  of  all  the  company, 
numbering  a hundred  and  one  when  they  landed,  only 
seven  remained  able  either  to  nurse  the  sick  or  bury  the 
dead,  and  hour  by  hour,  as  these  met  about  their  com- 
plicated duties,  they  studied  each  others  faces,  in  terror 
of  seeing  the  fatal  signs  that  yet  one  more  was  stricken 
down,  and  the  annihilation  of  the  settlement  one  step 
farther  advanced. 

Of  these  seven,  two  were  Elder  Brewster  and  Myles 
Standish,  and  well  did  they  prove  themselves  fit  to  be 


116 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


rulers  among  the  people,  for  they  became  servants  of 
all,  without  hesitation  and  without  affectation,  nursing, 
cooking,  dressing  loathsome  wounds,  and  ministering  in 
all  those  homely  ways  repugnant  to  refined  senses,  and 
especially,  perhaps,  to  the  dignity  of  man.  The  doctor 
also  kept  on  foot,  although  terribly  worn  with  sleepless- 
ness, fatigue,  and  rheumatism ; Peter  Browne,  none  the 
worse  for  his  day  and  night  in  the  woods,  with  Francis 
Eaton  to  help  him,  took  charge  of  digging  the  graves 
and  burying  the  dead,  already  in  their  silent  colony 
along  the  brow  of  Cole’s  Hill,  almost  equaling  their  yet 
suffering  comrades.  The  two  remaining  sound  ones 
were  Stephen  Hopkins  and  Helen  Billington,  who,  as 
the  only  female  nurse,  was  called  upon  to  attend  the 
sick  women,  so  far  as  she  could ; this,  of  course,  gave 
but  little  time  for  each  patient,  and  one  night  the  doctor 
hurriedly  said  to  Standish,  — 

“ Captain,  wilt  have  an  eye  to-night  to  those  two 
beds  in  the  corner  ? ’T  is  Priscilla  Molines  and  Desire 
Minter,  both  shrewdly  burned  with  fever,  and  needing 
medicine  and  care  lest  they  should  fall  to  raving  before 
morning.  I ’d  not  ask  thee,  knowing  all  thou  hast  on 
hand,  but  good  wife  Billington  must  not  quit  ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  what  needs  so  many  words,”  interrupted 
Standish.  “ Give  me  their  medicine  and  directions,  I 
can  care  for  them  well  enow  and  for  Bradford  whose 
huckle-bone  1 giveth  him  sore  distress  to-night.” 

“ I doubt  me  if  he  wins  through,”  said  the  Doctor 
softly;  “and  White  and  Molines  will  never  see  the 
morning,  and  Mistress  Winslow  is  going  fast  — well,  I 
leave  the  maids  and  Bradford  to  thee.” 

“ Ay,  I ’ll  do  my  best,”  replied  Standish  briefly. 

1 Hip-bone 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLEfS  HILL.  117 


And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  Priscilla  Molines,  moaning 
in  her  feverish  unrest,  felt  a moist  linen  laid  upon 
her  brow  and  a cup  held  to  her  parched  lips. 

44  Petite  maman  ! ” murmured  she,  and  with  those 
moistened  lips  kissed  the  hand  that  held  the  cup. 

Standish  sadly  smiled  a little,  and  passed  on  to  the 
next  bed  where  lay  Desire  Minter,  not  so  ill,  but  far 
more  requiring  than  Priscilla. 

44  Here  is  thy  draught,  child,”  said  the  nurse  kindly, 
as  he  raised  her  head  and  put  the  cup  to  her  lips. 
Swallowing  it  eagerly,  she  lifted  her  jealous  eyes  and 
with  a smile  half  cunning,  half  pathetic,  whispered,  — 

44 1 love  thee  too,  but  I think  it  not  maidenly  to  kiss 
thee  till  I ’m  asked.” 

44  Nay,  girl,  thou  ’rt  dreaming  or  wild,”  said  the  Cap- 
tain soothingly.  44  She,  poor  maid,  is  distraught,  and 
took  me  for  her  mother.  She  loves  me  not,  nor  dost 
thou,  nor  do  I ask  any  woman’s  love.” 

44  Nay,  then,  thou  ’rt  mocking  me.  Thou  dost  love 
her,  and  she  loves  thee,  for  I ’ve  heard  her  say  as  much ; 
but  still  I know  one  that  loves  thee  better.” 

44  If  thou  were  not  so  ill,  Desire,  I ’d  find  it  in  my 
heart  to  say  — but  there,  sleep  poor  child,  sleep ! Thou 
knowst  not  what  thou  sayst.” 

And  Standish  turned  impatiently  away  to  Bradford 
who  suffered  excruciatingly  that  night  with  inflamma- 
tory rheumatism  in  the  hip- joint. 

The  next  morning  Priscilla  awaking  refreshed,  and 
for  the  moment  quite  herself,  found  her  neighbor  weep- 
ing passionately,  yet  from  time  to  time  regarding  her  in 
so  peculiar  a fashion  that  she  said  softly,  — 

44  What  is  it,  Desire  ? Art  thou  in  sore  pain  ? ” 

44  It  ill  fits  thee  to  pity  me  when  it  is  thou  that  hast 
done  me  such  despite,”  whimpered  Desire  sullenly. 


118 


STAN  DISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ I ! what  dost  thou  mean  ? ” 

“ Why,  I have  ever  liked  our  Captain  since  first  I 
saw  him,  and  now  his  wife  is  dead  and  buried,  why 
should  he  not  marry  me  as  well  as  another  ? ” 

“ Why  not,  if  it  pleaseth  him  ? I forbid  not  the 
banns,”  replied  Priscilla,  the  dim  wraith  of  her  old 
smile  passing  across  her  face. 

“ Why  not  ? Because  thou  hast  bewitched  him,  thou 
naughty  sprite,  and  thou  knowest  it.” 

“What  dost  thou  mean,  Desire?  Speak  out  and 
done  with  it,  for  thou  weariest  me  sore,”  exclaimed 
Priscilla  impatiently,  while  the  fever  began  to  streak 
her  pallid  cheek  and  flame  in  her  great  eyes. 

“ Why,  I saw  you  two  kissing  last  night,  and  I sup- 
pose you  ’re  promised  to  each  other,”  muttered  the  other 
sulkily,  and  Priscilla,  rising  on  her  elbow,  fixed  on  her 
a glance  beneath  which  the  coward  quailed,  yet  sullenly 
murmured,  — 

“Well,  you  did!” 

“ Desire  Minter,  thou  art  lying,  and  thou  knowest  it, 
or  else  thy  wits  are  distraught,  or  mine.” 

“ Ah,  ’t  is  well  to  try  to  edge  out  of  it  by  brow-beat- 
ing me,  but  thou  canst  not.  I saw  you  two  kissing. 
When  he  first  came  in  he  went  and  stood  beside  thy  bed 
and  looked  down  at  it,  biting  at  his  beard,  as  is  his  wont 
when  he  is  moved  ; and  then  he  fell  upon  his  knees, 
whispering  something,  and  kissed  the  pillow,  over  and 
over,  and  when  he  stood  up  he  drew  his  hand  across  his 
eyes,  and  all  for  love  of  thee.  So  now,  then ! ” 

“ Is  that  true,  Desire  ? Can  it  be  true  that  he  cares 
for  me  in  that  fashion  ? ” asked  Priscilla  falling  back 
bewildered,  for  she  knew  no  more  than  did  Desire  that 
hers  was  the  bed  where  Rose  Standisli  had  breathed  her 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLE'S  HILL . 119 


last  sigh,  and  her  husband  had  looked  his  last  on  her 
sweet  face. 

“ Certes,  ’t  is  true,  and  thou  knowest  it  better  than  I, 
for  when,  later  on,  he  came  to  give  thee  a drink  and 
wet  thy  forehead  and  lips,  thou  didst  give  him  back  his 
kiss  right  tenderly,  and  mutter  something  of  i love  ’ and 
1 darling.’  ” 

“ I kissed  Myles  Standish  ! ” cried  Priscilla  wildly. 

“ Ay,  kissed  the  hand  that  held  the  cup,  and  when 
he  came  to  me  I told  him  I had  seen  it  all,  and  that  I 
knew  before  that  thou  lovedst  him.” 

“ Thou  saidst  I loved  him  ! 99 

• ‘ Ay,  and  he  said  he  loved  thee  not,  nor  any  woman, 
but ’t  was  a blind,  for  such  a weary  sigh  as  he  fetched, 
and  turned  to  look  again  at  thee.” 

“ I kissed  him,  and  thou  saidst  I loved  him,  and  he 
said  he  loved  me  not ! ” cried  Priscilla  blindly ; and  then 
with  a wild  cry  she  burst  into  a delirious  laugh,  ending 
in  a shriek  that  brought  Doctor  Fuller  from  the  next 
room. 

“ What  is  this  ! what  is  toward  ! ” demanded  he 
glancing  from  Priscilla  to  Desire,  who  replied  in  her 
sullen  tones,  — 

“ I know  not,  except  that  Captain  Standish  and  Pris- 
cilla are  sweethearts,  and  I told  her  I saw  them  kissing 
last  night,  and  haply  she  is  shamed  as  well  she  may 
be.” 

“ And  well  mayst  thou  be  doubly  shamed,”  replied 
the  doctor  sternly,  “ to  torment  her  into  frenzy  with 
thy  jealous  fancies,  and  she  already  at  death’s  door. 
Thou  sawest  naught,  whatever  thou  mayst  have 
dreamed  ; and  mark  me  now,  Desire  Minter,  I forbid 
thee  to  speak  one  word  more,  good  or  bad,  to  Priscilla 


120 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Molines  while  thou  stayest  here ; and  if  thou  heedest 
not,  I ’ll  put  thee  in  another  house  and  leave  thee  to 
shift  for  thyself.” 

Thoroughly  cowed,  the  mischief  maker  promised  obe- 
dience, and  the  doctor  turned  to  the  delirious  girl,  whom 
he  finally  quieted  to  a moaning  sleep,  in  which  he  left 
her,  muttering  to  himself  as  he  went,  — - 

“ Not  a month  since  his  wife  died  in  that  bed  — well 
— ’tis  no  concern  of  mine.” 

And  so  it  came  about  that  the  idea  of  love  between 
Priscilla  and  Standish  was  planted  in  four  active  minds, 
and  in  time  bore  strange  and  hitter  fruit. 

And  so  the  gloomy  days  crept  on,  and  the  sufferers 
and  the  mourners  of  the  village  which  lay  half-built  be- 
neath the  hill  passed  on  to  take  up  their  dwelling  in  the 
village  upon  the  bluff,  where,  silent  pilgrims,  they  lay, 
row  upon  row,  hands  meekly  folded,  lips  close  set,  and 
eyes  forever  shut,  but  yet  attaining  all  that  they  sought 
in  this  their  pilgrimage,  freedom  from  tyranny  even  of 
time  and  circumstance,  freedom  to  worship  God  in  spirit 
and  in  truth. 

When  a conqueror  or  a tyrant  decimates  his  captives 
or  his  subjects,  the  world  cries  out  in  horror  of  such  dis- 
regard of  life,  but  in  this  instance  God  spared  one  half 
His  people  from  the  sorrows  and  the  hardships  they  had 
come  forth  to  seek,  and  gave  them  at  once  the  reward, 
for  which  their  brethren  still  must  toil.  Of  the  hundred 
and  one  men,  women,  and  children  who  followed  Gid- 
eon to  the  battle,  but  fifty  were  chosen  to  achieve  the 
final  conquest. 

Among  those  who  survived  for  a little  time  was  John 
Goodman,  who,  after  lying  for  weeks  at  death’s  door, 
came  slowly  back  for  a while,  and  in  the  early  spring 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLEfS  HILL.  121 


crept  out  in  the  sunshine  with  the  faithful  Pike  at  his 
heels.  Trying  his  strength  from  day  to  day,  he  at  last 
hobbled  down  to  the  brook  and  across,  but  was  no 
sooner  beyond  hail  of  the  village  than  two  great  gray 
wolves,  stealing  from  a thicket,  sprang  upon  the  dog, 
who,  not  so  venturesome  as  Nero,  ran  to  take  refuge  be- 
tween her  master's  still  tender  feet,  causing  them  not  a 
little  pain. 

66  Fool ! Again  without  a weapon  ! ” exclaimed  John 
apostrophizing  himself,  and  picking  up  a good-sized 
stone  he  threw  it,  with  a shout,  at  the  foremost  wolf, 
who  retreated  snarling  to  the  bushes.  Stumbling  back 
toward  the  village  as  fast  as  he  could,  Goodman  came 
presently  to  a pile  of  stout  palings  cut  for  fencing,  and 
arming  himself  with  one  cast  an  anxious  look  behind. 
It  was  time,  for  the  wolves,  recovering  courage  as  he 
retreated,  were  in  full  pursuit,  with  glaring  eyes  and 
lolling  tongues. 

Ordering  Pike  to  crouch  behind  him,  the  young  fel- 
low stood  at  bay,  hooting,  shouting,  and  waving  his 
stave  in  a semicircle,  within  whose  sweep  the  creatures 
were  not  anxious  to  intrude.  Weary  at  length  of  trying 
to  surprise  the  fortress  by  a flank  movement,  yet  reluc- 
tant to  abandon  the  hope  of  seizing  Pike,  the  wolves 
finally  seated  themselves  upon  their  haunches  at  a lit- 
tle distance  and  seemed  to  consult,  grinning  and  snap- 
ping their  teeth  from  time  to  time  at  the  spaniel,  who 
cowered  almost  into  the  ground,  whimpering  piteously, 
while  her  master  leaned  upon  his  paling  and  laughed 
aloud,  an  insult  to  which  the  wolves  responded  by  throw- 
ing back  their  heads  and  uttering  howls  like  those  of 
a dog  baying  the  moon.  Then  suddenly  leaping  into 
the  bushes  they  disappeared  as  quickly  as  they  came, 


122 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


leaving  Goodman,  still  chuckling,  to  resume  his  path  to 
the  village. 

“ We  ’ll  have  a merry  tale  for  Peter  Browne  this 
evening,  won’t  we,  Pike  ! ” 

But  while  the  brave  young  fellow  climbed  the  little 
hill  from  the  brook  to  The  Street,  this  smiling  expres- 
sion gave  place  to  one  of  consternation,  as  he  beheld  a 
column  of  smoke  and  flame  issuing  from  the  roof  of  the 
house  set  apart  as  hospital,  and  heard  a terrified  shout 
of,— 

“ Fire  ! Fire  ! ” 

“ Fire  ! Fire  ! ” echoed  Goodman  running  toward 
the  spot  as  fast  as  his  tender  feet  would  allow. 

Sounder  men  were  before  him,  however,  and  when  he 
arrived  a ladder  was  placed  against  the  side  of  the  burn- 
ing house,  and  Alden,  with  Billington  at  his  heels,  was 
about  to  mount  it,  when  Brewster  exclaiming,  — 

“ Here ’s  no  place  for  sick  men,”  pushed  both  aside, 
ran  up  the  ladder,  and  tearing  the  blazing  thatch  from 
the  roof  flung  it  down  in  handfuls  so  rapidly  and  effec- 
tually that  in  five  minutes  the  threatened  conflagration 
was  subdued  to  smoking  embers  and  a few  fugitive 
flames  here  and  there,  where  already  the  fire  had  fas- 
tened upon  the  poles  laid  to  support  the  thatch.  Some 
buckets  of  water  passed  up  by  the  little  crowd  below 
soon  extinguished  these,  and  then  the  Elder,  peeping 
down  through  the  damaged  roof  into  the  room  below, 
cried  cheerily, — 

“ All  is  safe,  friends,  and  no  great  harm  done.” 

“ God  be  praised  ! ” exclaimed  Bradford’s  voice  from 
within,  and  Brewster  softly  said,  “ Amen  ! ” as  he  de- 
scended the  ladder  less  easily  than  he  had  mounted  it. 
At  the  foot  he  encountered  Doctor  Fuller,  who  with 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLES  HILL.  123 


Standish  had  just  been  to  Cole’s  Hill  arranging  for  an- 
other line  of  graves. 

“ Let  me  see  your  hands,  Elder,”  demanded  the  phy- 
sician in  his  usual  dry  fashion. 

“ No  need,  ’t  is  naught.  Go  look  after  your  sick  folk,” 
replied  the  Elder  trying  to  push  past,  but  Fuller  caught 
him  by  the  sleeve,  exclaiming  sharply,  — 

“ A man  whose  hands  are  needed  for  others  as  oft  as 
thine  are,  has  no  right  to  let  them  become  useless,  and 
’t  is  not  in  reason  but  they  are  burned.” 

“ You  ’re  right,  Fuller,  and  I ’m  but  a fro  ward  child,” 
said  Brewster,  a sudden  smile  replacing  the  frown  of 
pain  upon  his  face,  and  obediently  opening  out  his  burned 
and  bleeding  palms.  “ Come  to  the  Common  house,  so 
as  not  to  fright  my  wife  within  there,  and  do  them  up 
with  some  of  your  wonderful  balsam.” 

“And  were  it  not  for  thought  of  your  work,  you 
would  not  have  let  me  see  them,”  said  Fuller  glancing 
from  under  his  penthouse  brows  with  a look  of  cynical 
admiration. 

“ One  cannot  give  thought  to  every  pin-prick  with 
such  deadly  sickness  on  all  sides,”  replied  Brewster 
simply.  “ Best  go  into  the  hospital  and  see  if  thy  poor 
dying  folk  have  taken  any  harm  of  the  fright  before 
thou  lookest  after  me.” 

“ The  Captain  has  gone  into  the  sick-house.  I ’ll  hold 
on  to  you,”  returned  the  Doctor  curtly,  and  Brewster 
yielded  with  his  ever  gracious  smile. 

That  evening  as  the  Elder  with  his  bandaged  hands, 
Carver,  gaunt  and  pale  from  an  attack  of  fever,  Stan- 
dish, Winslow,  John  Howland,  and  Doctor  Fuller  sat  at 
supper  in  the  Common  house,  Master  Jones,  followed  by 
a sailor  heavily  laden,  presented  himself  at  the  door. 


124 


STANDISH  OF  STANDI SIL 


“ Good  e’en,  Masters,  and  how  are  your  sick  folk  ? ” 
demanded  he,  in  a would-be  cordial  voice. 

“ Thanks  for  your  courtesy,  Master  Jones,”  replied  the 
governor  with  grave  politeness.  “ They  are  doing  rea- 
sonably well,  except  some  few  who  do  not  seem  like  to 
mend  in  this  world.” 

“ And  Master  Bradford  ? Sure  he  is  not  going  to 
die?”  pursued  Jones  in  a voice  of  strange  anxiety,  as 
he  sank  into  the  great  arm-chair  Carver  had  proffered 
him. 

“ He  is  as  low  as  a man  can  he  and  live,”  broke  in 
the  doctor  gruffly,  as  he  fixed  Jones  with  a glance  of 
angry  reproach,  beneath  which  even  that  rough  com- 
panion quailed. 

“ He  sent  aboard  yesterday  begging  a can  of  beer,” 
blurted  he,  his  brown  face  reddening  a little. 

“ Yes,”  replied  the  governor  sternly,  “ and  you  made 
answer  that  though  it  were  your  own  father  needing  it, 
you  would  not  stint  yourself.” 

“I  said  it,  and  I don’t  deny  it,”  retorted  Jones  with 
a feeble  attempt  at  bluster.  “ But  any  man  has  a right 
to  change  his  mind  if  he  find  cause,  and  I ’ve  changed 
mine  as  you  will  see,  for  1 ’ve  brought  not  a can,  but 
a runlet  of  beer  for  Bradford,  and  any  others  who  crave 
it  and  are  like  to  die  wanting  it ; and  when  that  is  gone 
if  Master  Carver  will  send  on  board  asking  it  for  the 
sick  folk,  he  shall  have  it  though  I be  forced  to  drink 
water  myself  on  the  voyage  home.  I ’ll  have  no  dead 
men  haunting  me  and  bringing  a plague  upon  the  ship.” 

“ Truly  we  are  greatly  beholden  to  you,  Master 
Jones,”  began  Carver  in  great  surprise,  but  the  mariner 
raised  his  hand  and  continued,  — 

“ Nay,  hear  me  out,  for  that ’s  not  all.  I went  ashore 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLE'S  HILL.  125 


to-day  and  shot  five  geese,  and  here  they  are,  all  of 
them,  not  one  spared,  though  I could  have  well  fancied 
3.  bit  of  goose  to  my  supper,  but  I brought  all  to  you, 
ind  more  than  that,  even,  for  here  is  the  better  half  of 
a buck  we  found  in  the  wood  ready  shot  to  our  hand. 
The  Indians  had  cut  off  his  horns  and  carried  them 
away,  and  doubtless  were  gone  for  help  to  carry  the 
carcase  home  when  we  came  upon  it ; haply  they  saw 
us  coming  and  made  a run  for  it ; at  all  odds  they  had 
left  him  as  he  fell,  and  Sir  Wolf  was  already  tearing  at 
his  throat  so  busily  that  he  knew  not  friends  were  nigh, 
until  a bullet  through  his  head  heralded  our  coming. 
So  here  are  the  haunches  for  you,  and  I content  myself 
with  the  poorer  parts.” 

Taking  the  articles  named  from  a bag  which  the  sailor 
had  at  his  direction  laid  upon  the  floor,  Jones  ranged 
them  in  an  imposing  line  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and 
resuming  his  chair  looked  at  his  hosts  still  in  that  con- 
ciliatory and  half  timid  manner  so  utterly  new  to  them 
and  foreign  to  his  usual  demeanor. 

“We  are,  indeed,  deeply  beholden  to  you,  Master 
Jones,”  said  Carver  at  length  in  his  grave  and  courteous 
tones.  44  But  if  I may  freely  speak  my  thought,  and  if 
I read  my  brethren’s  minds  aright,  we  cannot  but  muse 
curiously  upon  this  sudden  and  marvelous  change  in  your 
dealings  with  us,  and  would  fain  know  its  meaning.” 

*4  Feeling  certain  that  Master  Jones  is  not  one  to  give 
something  for  nothing,  and  so  in  common  prudence 
wishing  to  know  at  the  outset  what  price  he  expects 
for  bearing  himself  in  Christian  charity,  as  he  seemeth 
desirous  to  do,”  suggested  Standish  with  more  candor 
than  diplomacy. 

44  Thou  ’rt  ever  ready  with  thy  gibes  on  better  men 


126 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


than  thyself,  art  not  ? ” exclaimed  Jones  turning  angrily 
upon  him.  For  reply  Standish  leaned  back  in  his  chair, 
pulled  at  his  red  beard,  and  laughed  contemptuously ; 
but  Winslow  hastily  interposed  with  a voice  like  oil  upon 
the  waves. 

“ Our  captain  will  still  have  his  jest  upon  all  of  us, 
Master  Jones,  but  in  truth  as  the  governor  hath  said, 
we  cannot  but  admire  at  this  wonderful  generosity  on 
thy  part,  and  fain  would  know  whence  it  ariseth.,, 

“Why,  sure ’t is  not  far  to  seek,”  replied  Jones  with 
a hideous  grimace  intended  for  a conciliatory  smile ; 
“ we  have  ever  been  good  friends,  have  we  not,  and  you 
all  wish  me  well,  as  I do  all  of  you.  Certes,  none  of 
you  would  try  to  bring  evil  upon  our  heads,  lest  it  fall 
upon  your  own  instead,  for  still  those  who  wish  ill  to 
others  fall  upon  ill  luck  themselves.  Is  it  not  so, 
Elder  ? ” 

“Art  speaking  of  Christian  doctrine,  or  of  heathen 
superstition,  Master  Jones  ? ” inquired  the  Elder  fixing 
his  mild,  yet  penetrating  eyes  upon  the  seaman,  who 
slunk  beneath  their  gaze. 

“ Nay,  then ! ” blustered  he  rising  to  his  feet,  “ I 
came  hither  when  I would  fain  have  stayed  in  my  own 
cabin  aboard,  and  I came  not  to  chop  logic  nor  to  be 
put  to  the  question  like  a malefactor,  but  to  bring  help 
to  my  sick  neighbors,  who,  to  be  sure,  cried  out  for  it 
lustily  enough  before  they  got  it,  but  now  pick  and  ques- 
tion at  my  good  meat  and  drink  as  if  ’t  were  like  to  poi- 
son them.  Well,  that ’s  an  end  on’t,  and  you  can  take 
it  or  leave  it,  as  you  will.  Good  e’en  to  you.” 

“ Nay,  nay,  Master  Jones,”  interposed  Carver  has- 
tily, as  the  angry  man  made  toward  the  door.  “ Let  us 
not  part  thus,  especially  in  view  of  thy  great  kindness 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLE’S  HILL.  127 


toward  us,  for  which,  in  good  sooth,  we  are  more  grate- 
ful than  we  have  yet  expressed.  Let  pass  the  over  curi- 
ous queries  we  have  ventured,  and  sit  up  at  the  table  for 
a little  meat  and  drink,  such  as  it  may  be.  Here  is 
some  broiled  fish,  and  here  some  clams  ” — 

“ I care  not  for  eating,  having  finished  mine  own  sup- 
per but  now,”  grumbled  Jones  sinking  back  into  Car- 
ver’s arm-chair ; “ still  if  you  ’ll  broach  yon  runlet  of 
beer  I ’ll  taste  a mug  on ’t,  for  my  throat  is  as  dry  as  a 
chimbley.” 

“ The  beer  is  for  our  sick  folk  who  crave  it  as  they 
gather  their  strength,”  said  Carver  pleasantly  ; “ but  we 
have  here  a case  of  strong  waters  of  our  own,  if  that 
will  serve  thy  turn.” 

“Why,  ay,  ’twill  serve  my  turn  better  than  t’  other,” 
replied  Jones  drawing  his  hairy  hand  across  his  mouth 
with  an  agreeable  smile,  as  he  added,  — 

“ I did  but  ask  for  the  beer,  thinking  you  who  are 
well  needed  the  spirits  for  yourselves.” 

“We  can  spare  what  we  need  for  ourselves  more 
lightly  than  what  we  need  for  others,”  said  Carver  in 
that  grand  simplicity  of  nature  which  fails  to  perceive 
the  magnificence  of  its  own  impulses.  And  from  a shelf 
above  his  head  the  governor  took  a square  bottle  of  spir- 
its, while  Howland  poured  water  from  a kettle  over  the 
fire  into  a pewter  flagon,  and  produced  a sugar  bason 
from  a chest  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  These,  with  a 
smaller  pewter  cup,  he  placed  before  the  seaman  who 
eagerly  mixed  himself  a stiff  dram,  drank  it,  and  pre- 
pared another,  which  he  sipped  luxuriously,  as  leaning 
back  in  his  chair  he  looked  slowly  around  the  circle  of 
his  entertainers,  and  finally  burst  forth,  — 

The  plabs  truth  is,  there  are  no  folk  like  these  in 


128 


STANDISff  OF  STANDISH. 


any  latitude  I ’ve  sailed,  and  a man  must  deal  with  them 
accordingly.  ’T  is  what  I told  Clarke  and  Coppin  be- 
fore I came  ashore.  What  men  but  you  would  give  an- 
other what  you  want  yourselves,  and  lacking  it  may  find 
yourselves  in  worse  case  than  him  you  help  ? And  *t  is 
not  all  chat,  for  still  I ’ve  marked  it  both  afloat  and 
ashore,  and  the  poor  wretches  you ’ve  left  in  the  ship 
will  pluck  the  morsel  from  their  own  lips  to  put  it  to 
another’s. 

“ So  it  is,  that  with  all  your  losses,  a kind  of  good 
luck  aye  follows  you,  and  I shall  not  marvel  if,  in  the 
end,  you  build  up  your  colony  here,  and  see  good  days 
when  I am  — well,  it  matters  not  where  — I doubt  me 
if  priests  or  parsons  know.  But  they  who  flout  you  or 
do  you  a churlish  turn  find  no  good  luck  resting  on 
them,  but  rather  a curse,  — yea,  I ’ve  marked  that  too. 
yT  is  better  to  be  friends  than  foes  with  some  folk.” 

“ 6 Timeo  Daneos  et  dona  ferentes,’  ” quoted  Wins- 
low in  the  ear  of  Elder  Brewster,  who  sat  watching  the 
sailor  curiously,  and  now  suddenly  said,  — 

“ And  so  thy  shipmen  are  very  ill  too,  Master 
Jones ! ” 

“ Lo  you,  now ! I said  naught  of  if,  and  how  well 
you  knew.  What  dost  mean,  Elder  ? ” 

“ Naught  but  friendly  interest  like  thine  own,”  re- 
plied the  Elder  gently,  yet  never  removing  that  stead- 
fast gaze,  beneath  which  Jones  fidgeted  impatiently, 
and  finally  cried  in  a sort  of  desperate  surrender,  — 
“Well,  then,  as  well  you  know  already,  ’tis  that  mat- 
ter brought  me  here  to-night.  My  men  have  sickened 
daily,  and  everything  hath  gone  awry,  since  we  bundled 
you  and  your  goods  ashore  a month  or  so  agone,  when 
some  of  you  were  fain  to  tarry  aboard,  or  at  least  leave 
your  stuff  there,  and  come  and  go.” 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLE'S  HILL . 129 


“ But  thou  wast  afeard  we  should  drink  thy  beer  by 
stealth.  Nay,  thou  saidst  it,”  declared  Stan  dish  disdain- 
fully. 

“ Well,  yes,  I ’ll  not  go  back  of  saying  it,”  retorted 
Jones  half  abashed  and  half  defiant.  “ For  where  else 
shall  you  find  me  men  who  will  drink  water  if  another 
man  hath  beer  where  they  may  get  it  ? ” 

“ We  heard  from  our  friends  on  board  that  scurvy 
had  broken  out  among  the  shipmen,”  said  Carver  mo- 
tioning Standish  to  hold  his  peace. 

“ Scurvy,  and  fever,  and  rheumaticks,  and  flux,  and 
the  foul  fiend  knoweth  what  beside,”  replied  Jones  des- 
perately. “ Now  Clarke  hath  still  been  warning  me 
that  you  were  so  sib  with  the  saints  ” — 

“ Nay,  God  forbid  ! ” ejaculated  Brewster. 

Jones  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  then  nodding 
his  head  as  one  who  yields  a point  he  cannot  under- 
stand continued : “ Well,  if  not  the  saints,  whosoever  you 
have  put  in  their  room ; but  Clarke  says  you  are  e’en 
like  the  warlocks  of  olden  time  who  called  fire  out  of 
heaven  on  their  enemies,  and  it  came  as  oft  as  they 
called  ; and  he  says  Master  Brewster  is  like  some  Mes- 
sire  Moses  who  dealt  all  manner  of  ill  to  those  who 
crossed  him ; and  I marked,  and  so  did  Clarke,  how  yes- 
ter  morn  when  I denied  Bradford  the  beer  he  craved, 
and  answered  the  governor  in  so  curst  a humor,  three 
men  fell  ill  before  night,  and  two,  who  were  mending, 
died  in  torment.  And  Clarke  said,  and  so  it  seemed 
most  like  to  me,  that ’t  was  you  had  done  it,  and  might 
yet  do  worse ; and  so  I would  fain  be  friends,  and  I 
come  myself  to  bring  the  beer  and  the  meat,  and  I ’ll 
promise  to  do  as  much  again  and  again  ; nay,  I ’ll  swear 
it  by  the  toe  of  St.  Hubert,  that  my  mother  paid  gold 


130 


STANDISH  OF  STAND1SH. 


to  kiss  for  me  or  ever  I was  born,  yea,  1 11  swear  it,  if 
you  masters  will  take  off  the  curse,  and  promise  to  say 
masses,  nay,  nay,  to  say  sermons  and  make  mention  of 
me  to  the  Lord.” 

“ Knowest  thou  what  the  Apostle  Peter  said  to  one 
Simon  Magus  when  he  would  have  bought  the  grace  of 
God  for  gold  ? ” demanded  Brewster  sternly. 

“ Nay,  I never  knew  any  of  thy  folk  before,”  replied 
Jones  humbly  ; but  Winslow  consulting  the  pacific  gov- 
ernor with  his  eyes  smoothly  interposed,  — 

“ Surely  we  will  pray  for  thee  and  for  thy  men,  Mas- 
ter Jones,  albeit  our  prayers  have  no  more  weight  than 
those  of  any  other  sinful  men,  and  our  Elder  hath 
neither  the  power  nor  the  will  to  bring  plagues  upon 
our  enemies.  There  is  naught  of  art-magic  in  our  prac- 
tices, I do  assure  thee,  master.” 

“ Well,  I know  not;  but  in  all  honesty  I ’d  rather  be 
friends  than  foes  with  men  like  you.” 

“And  friends  we  are  most  heartily,”  said  Carver. 
“ Our  folk  on  board  are  still  mending,  are  they  not  ? ” 

“ Rigdale  and  Tinker  are  yet  in  bed,  and  their  wives 
wait  upon  them,  hand  and  foot,  though  fitter  to  be  in 
their  own  beds.  And  not  only  on  them,  but  now  and 
again  find  time  to  run  and  give  a drink  or  some  such 
tendance  to  our  men  lying  groaning  at  the  other  side  the 
bulkhead.  You  mind  that  knave  boatswain  who  still 
scoffed  and  swore  at  thy  prayers,  Elder,  and  so  griev- 
ously flouted  the  first  who  fell  sick  among  you  ? ” 

Brewster  nodded,  and  Standish  bringing  his  clenched 
fist  down  upon  the  table  growled,  — 

“ I mind  him  so  well  that  I Ve  promised  him  a skin 
full  of  broken  bones  the  first  time  I catch  him  ashore*” 

“ Then  thou  ’It  be  glad  to  know  that  he  lies  a-dying 
lo-night,”  replied  Jones  w^th  horrible  naivete. 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLEYS  HILL.  131 


44  Dying ! ” 

44  No  question  on ’t ; and  this  morning  as  he  lay  groan- 
ing in  sore  distress,  and  calling  upon  one  and  another 
to  wait  on  him,  and  none  had  time  or  stomach  for  it, 
goodwife  Rigdale  came  to  the  caboose  for  a morsel  of 
meat  after  her  night’s  watch,  and  hearing  him  she 
cried,  4 Alack,  poor  soul ! ’ and  hasted  to  him  with  the 
very  cup  she  was  just  putting  to  her  own  lips.  The  dog 
fastened  to  it,  I promise  you,  and  drank  every  drop, 
then  gazing  up  at  her  asked  a bit  too  late,  — 

44  4 Hast  any  left  for  thyself  ? 9 

44  She  smiled  on  him  with  that  white  face  she  wears 
nowadays  and  said,  — 

44  4 Nay,  but  thou  ’rt  more  than  welcome.’  Then  says 
Master  Boatswain,  not  knowing  that  I heard  him,  — 

“ 4 Oh,  if  I was  set  to  get  over  this,  as  well  do  I know 
I am  not,  I would  ask  no  better  than  to  join  your  com- 
pany and  forswear  all  I have  held  dear.  For  now  do  I 
see  how  true  Christians  carry  themselves  to  each  other 
when  they  are  in  trouble,  while  we  heathen  let  each 
other  lie  and  die  like  dogs.’ 

44  So  the  poor  wench,  fit  to  drop  as  she  was,  knelt  and 
began  praying  for  him,  and  I stole  away.” 

44  But  do  not  those  men  care  one  for  another  in  their 
sickness  ? ” asked  Brewster  indignantly. 

44  As  yonder  wolf  tended  upon  the  dying  buck,”  re- 
plied Jones  with  a careless  laugh.  44  To  drink  his  blood 
while  it  was  warm  was  his  chief  care,  and  my  men  part 
the  gear  of  their  dying  messmates  before  their  eyes. 
Why,  one  of  the  quartermasters,  Williams,  thou  know- 
est,  would  fain  have  hired  Bowman,  the  other  quarter- 
master, to  befriend  him  to  the  last,  and  promised  him 
all  his  goods  if  he  should  die,  or  money  if  he  got  well 


132 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


but  the  knave  did  but  make  him  two  messes  of  broth, 
and  some  kind  of  posset  to  drink  o’  nights,  and  then  left 
him,  swearing  all  over  the  ship  that  Williams  was  coz- 
ening him  by  living  so  long,  and  he  would  do  no  more 
for  him  though  he  starved,  and  yet  the  poor  soul  lay 
a-dying  then.” 

“ And  Bowman  had  his  goods  ? ” demanded  Howland 
sternly. 

44  Ay  had  he,  or  ever  the  breath  was  out  of  the  body. 
Then  there  was  Cooper,  who  died  cursing  and  swearing 
at  his  wife,  and  her  spendthrift  ways,  that  wasted  all 
his  wage  and  still  sent  him  to  gather  more.  And  there 
was  the  gunner  whose  whole  thought  was  that  he  must 
quit  his  gear,  and  would  have  his  chest  stand  where  he 
could  see  it,  and  the  key  under  his  pillow  to  the  last ; 
and  when  one  of  your  men  asked  would  he  listen  to  a 
bit  of  a prayer  he  bawled  out  with  a curse,  4 Nay,  what 
profit  was  there  in  prayers,  or  who  would  pay  him  for 
hearkening.’ 

44 1 tell  you,  masters,  ’t  is  the  worst  port  ever  I made, 
and  albeit  I ’m  not  a man  of  dainty  or  queasy  stomach, 
it  turns  me  sick  to  see  and  hear  such  things,  and  know 
that  I ’m  master  of  a crew  bound  for  hell  though  we 
called  it  Virginia.” 

44  Mayhap  if  the  Mayflower’s  crew  had  used  more  dil- 
igence in  seeking  to  land  us  in  Virginia  they  had  not 
themselves  made  the  port  thou  speakest  of,”  said  S tan- 
dish  bitterly,  while  Carver,  sighing  profoundly,  pushed 
back  from  the  table  in  sign  that  the  conference  was 
ended,  but  said  in  a voice  of  unfeigned  friendliness,  — 

44  Truly,  Master  Jones,  thou  needest  and  shall  have 
our  kindliest  sympathy,  and  our  prayers,  for  this  that 
you  tell  of  is  a fearful  condition,  and  a fatal  for  both 


THE  COLONISTS  OF  COLEyS  HILL.  133 

body  and  soul,  and  well  may  you  call  upon  Almighty 
God  for  pardon  and  for  mercy.  If  any  of  your  men  are 
fain  to  come  on  shore  we  will  receive  them  and  give 
such  tendance  as  we  do  to  our  own,  and  right  certain 
am  I that  those  of  our  company  yet  on  board  will  do  all 
that  they  are  able  for  you.  Forgetting  the  past,  about 
which  we  might  justly  murmur  if  we  would,  we  are 
ready  in  your  necessity  to  reckon  you  as  brothers,  and 
to  spend  and  to  be  spent  in  your  service,  as  God  giveth 
ability. 

“Will  it  please  thee  to  tarry  while  we  hold  our  even- 
ing devotions,  and  join  thy  prayers  to  ours,  that  the 
Lord  will  have  mercy  upon  all  of  us  ? ” 

“ Yes,  I ’ll  tarry,  though  ’t  is  not  greatly  in  my  way. 
Haply  He  might  take  it  amiss  if  I went,”  muttered 
Jones  looking  about  him  uneasily,  while  Carver  regarded 
his  hopeless  neophyte  with  divine  compassion,  and  Elder 
Brewster  prayed  long  and  fervently  that  not  only  the 
children  should  be  fed,  but  that  the  dogs  might  eat  of 
the  crumbs  that  fell  from  the  table,  and  that  in  the  end 
even  the  sons  of  Belial  might  be  forgiven  their  blind- 
ness and  hardness  of  heart,  and  receive  even  though 
undeservingly  the  uncovenanted  mercies  of  God. 

Fortunately  for  his  good  intentions  the  object  of  many 
of  these  petitions  quite  failed  to  comprehend  them,  and 
when  the  devotion  was  over  rose  and  went  away  far 
more  gently  than  he  had  come. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  HEADLESS  ARROW. 

“ Where  is  the  governor?  Hast  seen  him  of  late, 
Mistress  Priscilla  ? ” 

“ Nay,  Peter  Browne,  not  since  breakfast ; but  what  * 
is  thy  great  haste?  Have  the  skies  fallen,  or  our 
friends  the  lions  eaten  up  Nero  ? ” 

“ Nay,  then,  ’t  is  worse  than  lions ; ay,  here  is  Mas- 
ter Carver.” 

“ Here  am  I,  Peter,  and  what  wouldst  thou  with  me 
in  such  haste  ? 99 

“Why,  sir,  I have  ill  news.  This  morning  I went 
a-fowling  to  a pond  beyond  that  where  we  cut  thatch 
and  fell  into  such  mishap,  and  as  I lay  quiet  at  my  stand 
waiting  till  the  ducks  might  swim  my  way,  I saw,  for 
I heard  naught,  twelve  stout  salvages  all  painted  and 
trimmed  up,  carrying  bows  and  arrows  and  every  man 
his  little  axe  at  his  girdle.  Each  glided  after  each  like 
shadows  upon  the  water,  so  still  and  smooth,  and  they 
seemed  making  for  the  town.  Then  as  I bent  my  ear 
to  the  quarter  whence  they  came  I caught  the  far-off 
echo  of  that  same  fiendish  cry  that  saluted  us  at  the 
First  Encounter,  and  would  seem  to  be  their  war-cry  or 
slogan.” 

“ And  then  ? ” 

“ I waited  till  all  were  past  and  all  sound  died  away, 
and  then  I fetched  a compass,  and  ran  home  as  fast  as  I 
might  to  warn  the  company  and  the  captain.” 


THE  HEADLESS  ARROW . 


135 


“And  thou  didst  well,  Peter,”  replied  Carver  mus- 
ingly, while  Priscilla  standing  in  the  doorway  behind 
him,  with  Mary  Chilton  at  her  side,  nodded  mockingly, 
and  clapped  her  hands  in  silent  applause. 

Turning  suddenly,  the  governor  surprised  her  antics, 
but  smiling,  asked,  — 

“ Dost  know,  Priscilla,  whither  Captain  Standish 
went  this  morning  ? ” 

“ He  and  Francis  Cooke  went  a-field  so  soon  as  they 
had  done  breakfast,  sir,  and  as  they  carried  axes  and 
wedges  in  hand,  it  would  seem  they  had  gone  to  rive 
timber,”  replied  Priscilla  demurely. 

“ Ay,  like  enough  ; but  as  ’t  is  near  noon,  when  they 
will  be  home  for  dinner,  we  will  e’en  wait  till  we  have 
the  captain’s  counsel,  and  meantime  I ’ll  see  that  all 
have  their  arms  in  readiness.” 

“ And  I will  go  help  to  make  the  dinner  ready,”  said 
Priscilla.  “ Thou  canst  lay  the  table,  Mary.” 

“ Ay,”  replied  the  girl  listlessly,  and  turning  sud- 
denly to  hide  the  tears  that  filled  her  blue  eyes.  Pris- 
cilla looked  after  her,  and  the  forced  gayety  faded  from 
her  own  face  as  she  put  her  arm  about  her  friend’s  waist 
and  led  her  away. 

“ Nay,  then,  nay,  then,”  whispered  she ; “ no  more 
crying,  poppet ! Didst  thou  not  cry  half  the  night  in 
spite  of  all  I could  say  ? ” 

“ But  how  can  I be  gay,  and  father  and  mother  both 
dead,  and  I so  weak  and  ailing,  and  alone.” 

“ But,  Mary,  I have  lost  more  than  that,”  said  Pris- 
cilla in  a low  voice,  and  with  that  hard  constraint  of 
manner  common  to  those  who  seldom  speak  of  their 
emotions. 

“ I know  thou  hast  lost  father,  mother,  brother  ” — 


136 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ And  even  the  faithful  servant  whom  I remember  in 
the  dear  old  home  when  I was  a toddling  child,”  said 
Priscilla  gloomily. 

“ Ay,  but  some  have  tenderer  hearts  than  others  and 
feel  these  things  more  cruelly,”  persisted  Mary  weep- 
ing unrestrainedly. 

Priscilla  removed  her  arm  from  the  other’s  waist  and 
stood  for  a moment  looking  out  at  the  open  door  with 
a mirthless  smile  upon  her  lips.  Then,  with  one  long 
sigh,  she  turned,  and  patting  Mary’s  heaving  shoulder 
said  gently  enough,  — 

“ I ’m  more  grieved  for  thee  than  I can  tell,  dear 
Mary ; but  still  I find  that  to  busy  one’s  self  in  many 
ways,  and  to  put  on  as  light-hearted  a look  as  one  can 
muster,  is  a help  to  grief.  See  now  poor  Elizabeth  Til- 
ley. She  hath  cried  herself  ill,  and  must  tarry  in  bed 
where  is  naught  to  divert  her  grief.  Is  it  not  better  to 
keep  afoot  and  be  of  use  to  others,  at  least  ? ” 

“ Ay,  I suppose  so,”  replied  Mary  disconsolately. 

“ Well,  then,  lay  the  table,  while  I try  if  the  meat  is 
boiled.  Oh,  if  we  had  but  some  turnips,  or  a cabbage, 
or  aught  beside  beans  to  eat  with  it.” 

“ Canst  not  make  a sauce  of  biscuit  crumbs  and  but- 
ter and  an  onion,  as  thou  didst  for  the  birds  ? ” asked 
Mary  drying  her  eyes. 

“ Sauce  for  birds  is  not  sauce  for  boiled  beef,”  replied 
Priscilla,  her  artistic  taste  shocked  not  a little ; “ but  if 
thou  ’It  be  good,  I ’ll  toss  thee  up  a dainty  bit  for  thy- 
self.” 

“ And  me,  too  ! ” exclaimed  Desire  Minter,  who  had 
just  come  in  at  the  door. 

“ And  thee,  too,”  echoed  Priscilla.  “ But,  Desire, 
dost  know  the  Indians  are  upon  us,  and  they  ’ll  no  doubt 


THE  HEADLESS  ARROW . 137 

eat  thee  first  of  all,  for  thou  ’rt  both  fat  and  tender,  and 
will  prove  a dainty  bit  thyself,  I doubt  not.” 

“ Well,  dear  maids,  is  the  noon-meat  ready  ? ” asked 
Mistress  Brewster’s  gentle  voice  at  the  door.  “ Dame 
Carver  would  fain  have  some  porridge,  and  if  thou  ’It 
move  thy  kettle  a bit,  Priscilla,  I will  make  it  myself.” 

“ Now,  dear  mother,  why  should  you  do  aught  but 
rest,  with  three  great  girls  standing  idle  before  you  ? ” 
cried  Priscilla  gently  seating  the  weary  woman  in  her 
husband’s  arm-chair.  “ I will  make  the  porridge  while 
Desire  lifts  the  beef  from  the  pot,  and  Mary  lays  the 
table.  Our  mother  is  more  than  tired  with  last  night’s 
watching  beside  Mistress  Carver.” 

“ Nay,  then,  child,  I ’ll  rest  a minute,  since  I have 
such  willing  hands  to  wait  on  me,  and  well  I know  thou 
art  the  most  delicate  cook  among  us.  Dame  Carver  will 
be  the  gainer.” 

And  leaning  her  head  against  the  back  of  the  chair, 
poor,  weary  Mistress  Brewster  closed  her  eyes,  and  even 
dozed,  while  the  three  girls  busily  carried  on  their  tasks, 
with  low-voiced  murmurs  of  talk  that  rather  soothed 
than  disturbed  the  sleeper. 

The  first  plan,  of  dividing  the  settlers  into  nineteen 
families  and  building  a house  for  each,  had  been  aban- 
doned before  more  than  two  or  three  of  the  houses  were 
begun,  and  now  that  the  prostrating  sickness  interrupt- 
ing their  plans  was  past,  and  the  survivors  counted,  it 
was  found  that  sadly  few  dwellings  were  needed  to  com 
tain  them,  so  that  at  present  all  were  divided  among 
four  or  five  houses,  although  as  the  men  gained  strength 
for  labor  each  wrought  upon  his  future  home  in  all  the 
time  to  be  spared  from  the  common  needs. 

The  house  where  we  have  found  Priscilla  was  that  of 


133 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Elder  Brewster,  situated  on  the  corner  of  The  Street 
and  the  King’s  Highway,  as  the  Pilgrims  called  the 
path  crossing  The  Street  at  right  angles,  and  leading 
down  to  the  brook,  although  to-day  we  should  say  that 
the  elder’s  house  stood  on  the  corner  of  Leyden  and 
Market  streets  ; like  all  others  built  at  this  time,  it  was 
a low  structure  covered  in  with  planks  hewn  from  the 
forest  trees,  and  roofed  with  thatch.  At  each  side  of 
the  entrance  door  lay  a tolerably  large  room,  that  on  the 
right  hand,  nearest  to  the  brook,  used  as  kitchen,  din- 
ing, and  general  living  room,  while  the  other  was  the 
family  sleeping  room,  and  also  used  as  a withdrawing 
room,  where  the  elder  held  counsel  with  the  governor,  or 
other  friends,  and  studied  his  exhortation  for  the  coming 
Sunday  ; here,  also,  Mistress  Brewster  led  her  boys,  or 
the  maidens  she  guided,  for  reproof,  counsel,  or  tender 
comforting.  At  the  back  of  this  room,  partitioned  by  a 
curtain,  was  a nook,  where  Wrestling,  a delicate  child 
of  six,  and  Love,  his  sturdier  brother,  two  years  older, 
nestled  like  kittens  in  a little  cot.  Above  in  the  loft, 
reached  by  a ladder-like  staircase,  was  a comfortable 
room  appropriated  to  Mary  Chilton,  Priscilla  Molines, 
and  Elizabeth  Tilley,  all  orphaned  within  three  months, 
and  at  once  adopted  by  the  Elder’s  wife  as  her  especial 
charge. 

In  the  next  house,  on  a lot  of  land  appropriated  at 
first  to  John  Goodman  and  some  others,  the  governor 
had  taken  up  his  abode  with  his  delicate  wife,  her  maid 
Lois,  Desire  Minter  their  ward,  and  several  children 
rhom  she  cared  for.  John  Howland,  the  governor’s  sec- 
retary and  right-hand  man,  also  lived  here,  and,  like  the 
manly  man  he  was,  hesitated  not  to  give  help  wherever 
it  was  needed. 


THE  HEADLESS  ARROW . 


130 


Owing  to  Mrs.  Carver’s  very  delicate  health,  it  had 
been  arranged  that  this  family  should  share  the  table  at 
Elder  Brewster’s,  where  the  young  girls  just  mentioned 
were  ready  and  glad  to  take  charge  of  the  household 
labors,  leaving  their  elders  free  for  other  matters. 

In  another  house,  placed  in  charge  of  Stephen  Hop* 
kins  and  his  bustling  wife,  nearly  all  the  unmarried  men 
were  gathered,  and  made  a hearty  and  soberly  jocund 
family.  The  third  house,  headed  by  Isaac  Allerton  and 
his  daughters,  was  the  home  of  Bradford,  Winslow, 
Mistress  Susannah  White,  with  her  children,  Resolved 
and  Peregrine,  and  her  brother,  Doctor  Fuller,  with 
their  little  nephew,  Samuel  Fuller,  whose  father  and 
mother  both  lay  on  Cole’s  Hill. 

In  the  Common  house,  under  charge  of  Master  War 
ren,  with  the  Billingtons  as  officials,  were  gathered  the 
rest  of  the  company  except  Standish,  who  slept  in  his 
own  house  on  the  hill,  but  had  his  place  at  Elder  Brew- 
ster’s table  when  he  chose  to  take  it. 

Hither  he  now  came,  silent  and  grave  as  was  his  wont 
since  Rose  died,  but  ever  ready  to  give  his  aid  and  sym- 
pathy, whether  in  handicraft  or  counsel,  to  the  governor, 
the  elder,  or  the  women  struggling  with  unwonted  la- 
bors. Of  lamentation  there  was  none,  and  since  the  day 
the  soldier  stood  beside  that  open  grave  and  watched 
the  mould  piled  upon  the  coffin  liis  own  hands  had  fash 
ioned  no  man,  not  even  the  elder,  had  heard  his  wife’s 
name,  or  any  allusion  to  his  loss,  pass  his  lips ; yet  those 
who  knew  him  best  marked  well  the  line  that  had  deep- 
ened between  his  brows,  the  still  endurance  of  his  eyes, 
and  the  sadness  underlying  every  intonation  of  his  voice ; 
and  those  who  knew  him  not,  and  had  in  their  shallowel 
natures  no  chord  to  vibrate  in  sympathy  with  this  grand 


140 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


patience,  comprehended  it  not,  and  seeing  him  thus 
ready  and  helpful,  not  evading  such  pleasant  talk  as 
lightened  the  toil  of  his  comrades,  not  preoccupied  or 
gloomy,  these  thought  the  light  wound  was  already 
healed,  and  more  than  one  beside  Desire  Minter  specu- 
lated upon  his  second  choice. 

Listening  to  the  governor’s  report  of  Browne’s  discov- 
ery,  Standish  nodded,  as  not  surprised,  and  said,  — 

“ Ay,  ’t  is  sure  to  come,  soon  or  late,  and  a peace 
won  by  arms  is  stronger  than  one  framed  of  words. 
When  the  salvages  have  made  their  onset  and  we  have 
chastised  them  roundly,  we  shall  be  right  good  friends. 
Meantime,  Francis  Cooke  and  I left  our  adzes  and 
wedges  where  we  were  hewing  plank,  and  so  soon  as  I 
have  taken  bite  and  sup  I ’ll  forth  to  look  for  them  with 
my  snaphance.” 

“ We ’ve  heard  of  locking  the  stable  door  when  the 
steed  was  stolen,”  murmured  Priscilla  to  Mary,  and  the 
captain,  whose  ear  was  quick  as  a hare’s,  half  turned 
toward  her  with  a glint  of  laughter  in  his  eyes. 

But  the  jibe  was  prophetic,  for  when,  half  an  hour 
later,  Standish  and  Cooke  returned  to  the  tree  they  had 
felled,  the  tools  were  all  gone,  and  a headless  arrow  was 
left  standing  derisively  in  the  cleft  of  a log. 

“ Hm  ! A cartel  of  defiance,”  said  the  captain  draw- 
ing it  out  and  grimly  examining  it.  “Well,  ’t is  like 
our  savage  forefathers  of  Britain  challenging  Julius  Cae- 
sar and  the  Roman  power.  But  come,  Cooke,  ’t  is  cer- 
tain we  cannot  rive  plank  with  our  naked  hands,  and 
since  our  tools  are  gone,  we  had  best  go  home  and  work 
at  the  housen.  To-morrow  we  ’ll  take  some  order  with 
these  masters.” 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  CAPTAIN’S  PROMOTION. 

The  afternoon  and  evening  were  devoted  to  a thor- 
ough review  and  furbishing  of  weapons,  many  of  which 
had  suffered  from  exposure  and  neglect  during  the  press 
of  building  and  of  sickness. 

And  surely  never  could  artist  find  better  subject  for 
his  painting  than  the  scene  at  Elder  Brewster’s  fire- 
side that  night  where  upon  the  hearth  Standish  and 
Alden  moulded  a heap  of  silvery  bullets,  while  Priscilla 
and  Mary  and  Elizabeth  Tilley  twirled  their  spinning- 
wheels,  or  knitted  the  long  woolen  hose  worn  both  by 
men  and  women  in  those  days,  looking  demurely  from 
time  to  time  toward  the  hearth,  where  Alden  occasion- 
ally dropped  a little  boiling  lead  into  a skillet  of  hot 
water,  and  nodded  to  one  or  other  of  the  girls  as  he 
drew  out  the  emblems  thus  formed. 

At  the  back  of  the  room  gathered  Brewster  and 
Winslow  and  Carver  and  Bradford,  discussing  plans  of 
defense  in  low  and  eager  tones,  while  over  all  fell  the 
broad  and  ruddy  light  of  the  floods  of  flame  that  rushed 
weltering  up  the  chimney  and  out  upon  the  night,  carry- 
ing tidings  to  the  wild  woods  and  wilder  men  crouching 
in  their  depths  that  here  were  encamped  a little  band 
of  invaders  stronger  than  the  primeval  forest,  stronger 
than  the  primeval  man,  stronger  than  Nature,  stronger 
than  Tradition. 


142 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Then  it  is  well  resolved,”  said  Carver  rising  at  last 
and  coming  toward  the  fire,  44  that  to-morrow,  so  soon 
as  we  have  committed  ourselves  to  God’s  protection,  and 
broken  our  fast,  we  will  assemble  with  all  the  men  of 
our  company  in  the  Common  house,  and  take  counsel  for 
the  safety  and  guidance  of  the  colony.  Does  this  move- 
ment suit  you,  Captain  Standish  ? ” 

“Ay,  Governor.  A council  of  war  is  ever  fitting 
prelude  to  action,”  replied  Standish  laying  down  his 
bullet-mould  and  standing  up. 

“And  this  is  a council  coram populo”  said  Winslow 
smiling.  “ A congress  of  the  whole  people.” 

“ Our  first  town-meeting,  if  indeed  we  be  a town,” 
said  Bradford,  answering  Winslow’s  smile. 

“ Alden,  we  name  you  sheriff  pro  tempore,  to  warn 
the  brethren  of  this  convention.  All  the  men,  mind 
you,”  said  the  governor  quietly. 

“ But  none  of  the  women,  mark  you ! ” whispered 
Priscilla  to  John  as  Carver  turned  aside. 

“Nay,  who  ever  heard  of  women  clamoring  to  be 
heard  among  men  in  council,”  suggested  Mary  Chilton, 
while  Alden,  with  a side  glance  and  smile  at  the  merry 
maids,  followed  the  governor  a step  and  said,  — 

46  Ay,  sir,  and  I will  moreover  warn  goodwife  Bil- 
lington  to-night,  that  she  may  have  the  Common  house 
redded  betimes.” 

44  Well  thought  on,  John,”  replied  Carver  smiling,  for 
goodwife  Billington’s  untidiness  was  but  too  notorious 
among  her  associates. 

44  Thou ’It  have  to  lay  a hand  to  ’t  thyself,  John,” 
murmured  Priscilla  as  the  young  man  returned  to  the 
fire  to  gather  up  the  bullets  and  moulds,  and  if  it  must 
be  confessed  to  seize  the  chance  of  one  more  word  with 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  PROMOTION.  143 


Priscilla ; “ best  bring  up  two  or  three  buckets  of  sand 
from  the  beach,  and  when  yon  slattern  hath  done  her 
best,  spill  you  the  sand  over  all,  and  so  hide  her  short- 
comings.” 

“ ’T  is  good  advice,  as  thine  ever  is,”  returned  the 
lover,  and  so  energetic  did  Goody  Billington  find  both 
his  reminders  and  his  help  that  evening  and  the  next 
morning,  that  the  Common  house  was  set  in  order  at  a 
good  hour,  and  by  nine  o’clock  the  Council,  consisting 
of  nineteen  men,  all  that  were  left  of  the  forty-one  who 
signed  the  original  compact  on  board  the  Mayflower, 
gathered  around  the  table,  where  beside  the  governor 
sat  Howland,  ready  to  take  minutes  of  the  proceedings 
of  the  meeting,  and,  as  it  were,  to  open  the  Town  Records 
of  Plymouth. 

The  governor  in  a short  address  set  forth  the  danger 
which  evidently  menaced  the  little  colony,  and  invited 
the  opinion  of  the  freemen  assembled  as  to  the  means  of 
meeting  it.  One  and  another  offered  his  brief  remarks, 
and  at  last  Bradford  in  a few  strong  and  sensible  words 
proposed  that  the  whole  company  there  present  should 
be  resolved  into  a military  body,  and  properly  exercised 
in  the  use  of  arms  and  tactics  of  defense. 

“ That  is  my  own  thought,  Master  Bradford,”  replied 
Carver  eagerly  ; “ and  this  course  is  the  more  feasible 
that  we  have  among  us  a man  so  skilled  in  warfare,  and 
so  judicious  in  counsel  as  our  brother  Standish,  who  hath 
already  the  rank  of  Captain  in  the  armies  of  our  sov- 
ereign King  James,  and  hath  for  love  of  liberty  and 
the  truth  given  up  the  sure  prospect  of  advancement 
in  the  king’s  armies,  now  that  the  hordes  of  Spain  are 
again  let  loose  upon  our  Dutch  allies,  and  every  British 
soldier  is  called  to  their  defense.  I therefore  propose 


144 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


that  we  appoint  Captain  Standish  our  military  com- 
mander in-chief,  with  full  power  to  organize,  order,  and 
enforce  his  authority  as  he  shall  see  best  for  the  inter- 
ests of  the  community,  and  I for  one  place  myself  in  all 
such  matters  under  his  command,  and  promise  to  an- 
swer to  his  summons,  and  yield  to  his  counsel  in  all 
things  appertaining  to  warfare,  offensive  or  defensive.” 

“ And  I say  as  doth  the  governor,”  added  Winslow, 
turning  his  astute  and  thoughtful  face  to  Standish,  with 
a smile  of  brotherly  confidence. 

“ And  I,”  added  Bradford  heartily,  and  the  word  of 
assent  went  round  the  table,  until  each  man  had  given 
his  personal  adherence  to  the  new  commander-in-chief, 
and  Brewster  closed  the  list  by  saying  with  a benevolent 
smile,  — 

“And  I,  although  a man  of  peace,  and  too  well 
stricken  in  years  to  become  an  active  soldier,  will  in 
time  of  need  refuse  not  to  strike  a blow  under  our  cap- 
tain’s command  for  the  defense  of  those  God  hath  en- 
trusted to  our  care.” 

“ And  shall  we  call  Master  Standish  General,  or  how 
shall  we  mark  his  new  dignity  ? ” asked  Hopkins  a little 
pompously. 

“ Nay,  I ’ll  be  naught  but  Captain,”  replied  Standish 
hastily.  “ So  runneth  my  commission  from  good  Queen 
Bess,  heaven  rest  her  soul,  and  here  have  we  neither 
parchment  nor  seals,  no,  nor  authority  for  making  out 
new  commissions.  I have  that  I tell  of,  and ’t  is  enough : 
i Our  well  beloved  Captain,  Myles  Standish,’  it  runneth, 
and  by  that  name  I ’ll  live  and  die.  But  aside  from 
that,  I would  say,  friends,  that  I am  well  pleased  at  the 
trust  you  place  in  me,  and  that  so  long  as  God  giveth 
me  life  and  strength  I will  heartily  place  them  at  the 
service  of  this  ” — 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  PROMOTION. 


145 


But  a shriek,  followed  by  a hubbub  of  voices,  and  the 
pattering  of  many  light  feet,  broke  off  the  captain’s 
sentence,  and  brought  several  of  the  Council  to  their 
feet,  and  to  the  door,  just  as  it  was  burst  open  by  a 
crowd  of  women  and  children  all  clamoring,  — 

“ The  Indians  ! They  are  upon  us  ! They  are  com- 
ing into  the  housen ! Haste  ! Haste  if  ye  be  men  ! ” 
Not  waiting  to  question  farther,  Standish  seized  his 
snaphance  which  in  these  days  seldom  was  out  of  reach, 
and  briefly  shouting,  “ Follow  me  ! ” rushed  out,  looked 
about  him,  and  seeing  nothing  seized  young  John  Bil- 
lington  by  the  arm  and  demanded,  “ Where  are  these 
Indians,  thou  yelping  cur  ! Didst  rouse  that  hubbub 
for  naught  ? ” 

“Nay,  Bart  Allerton  and  Johnny  Cooke  and  I all 
saw  them  ” — 

“ Well,  lead  on,  and  show  them  to  me  too,”  demanded 
the  captain  sternly,  and  preceded  by  the  half -frightened, 
half-delighted  boys,  and  followed  in  more  or  less  order 
by  his  new  army,  he  marched  up  Leyden  and  down 
Market  streets,  until  across  the  brook  on  the  crest  of 
a little  hill  two  savages  in  full  panoply  of  war  suddenly 
appeared,  and  gazed  defiantly  upon  the  white  men. 

“ Governor,  the  advance  guard  of  the  enemy  is  in 
sight,  and  I propose  that  I with  another,  cross  the  brook 
and  parley  with  him,”  said  Standish  turning  to  Carver 
and  unconsciously  resuming  the  stiff  military  manner 
and  habit  of  a trained  soldier  in  actual  service. 

“ Your  powers  are  discretionary,  Captain  Standish,” 
replied  Carver  with  gentle  dignity.  “ All  is  left  in  your 
own  hands,  always  remembering  that  we  desire  peace 
rather  than  war,  if  so  be  we  may  have  it  in  honor.” 
w Hopkins,  wilt  volunteer  to  come  with  me  ? ” asked 


146 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


the  captain  briefly,  and  as  briefly  the  veteran  answered, 
44  Ay,  Captain,”  and  followed. 

But  as  the  party  of  parley  approached,  the  Indian 
scouts  withdrew,  and  before  Standish  could  reach  the 
spot  where  they  had  stood  no  creature  was  in  sight, 
although  the  stir  and  murmur  of  a multitude  not  seek- 
ing to  conceal  itself  were  heard  from  the  woods  densely 
clothing  Watson’s  Hill  and  the  valley  between. 

Returning  with  this  report  to  the  town,  the  captain 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  so  long  as  the  enemy  held  off 
he  should  be  left  undisturbed  while  the  colony  devoted 
itself  to  works  of  defense,  especially  finishing  and  arm- 
ing the  Fort  upon  the  hill,  and  making  it  ready  for  im- 
mediate use. 

44  It  were  well  that  you  and  I,  Governor,  went  aboard 
this  morning  and  stirred  up  Master  Jones  to  get  out 
our  ordnance  and  help  fetch  it  ashore,”  concluded  he. 
44  Shall  we  go  at  once  ? ” 

44  So  soon  as  the  tide  makes,  Captain ; for  when  the 
water  is  out,  our  harbor  is  somewhat  wet  for  walking, 
yet  by  no  means  suited  for  navigation,”  replied  Carver 
casting  a whimsical  glance  at  the  verdant  flats,  then  as 
now  replacing  the  tides  of  Plymouth  Harbor. 

44  A wise  provision  of  Nature  whereby  the  clams  are 
twice  a day  left  within  our  reach,”  replied  Standish  in 
the  same  tone.  44  After  noon-meat  then,  we  will  go.” 

But  when  the  governor  and  the  captain  arrived  on 
board  the  Mayflower  they  found  Jones  too  stupid  with 
liquor  to  listen  to  any  plans,  and  too  short-handed  when 
he  had  been  made  to  understand  to  carry  them  out 
with  half  the  dispatch  the  ardent  spirit  of  Standish 
prompted,  so  that  all  they  effected  was  to  have  two  of 
the  larger  pieces  hoisted  out  of  the  hold,  and  one  landed 


THE  CAPTAIN’S  PROMOTION. 


147 


and  left  upon  the  sand.  The  next  day  was  devoted 
to  finishing  the  preparations  on  shore,  and  finally  on 
Wednesday,  the  third  day  of  March,  Captain  Jones  with 
all  of  his  men  fit  for  service  came  on  shore  with  the  rest 
of  the  ordnance,  and,  aided  by  the  Pilgrims,  dragged 
the  clumsy  pieces  to  the  top  of  the  eminence  now  called 
Burying  Hill,  and  mounted  them  in  the  positions  care- 
fully marked  out  beforehand  by  Standish.  The  two 
minions,  each  eight  feet  long,  a thousand  pounds  in 
weight,  and  carrying  a three-pound  ball,  were  planted, 
the  one  to  command  the  landing  at  the  rock,  and  the 
other  the  crest  of  Watson’s  Hill,  where  the  savages  had 
twice  appeared.  The  saker,  a still  heavier  piece,  com- 
manded the  north,  where  the  dense  coverts  of  an  ever- 
green forest  hid  what  was  soon  to  be  known  as  the 
Massachusetts  trail,  and  a very  menacing  quarter.  The 
two  other  pieces  called  bases,  and  of  much  lighter  cali- 
bre, were  set  at  the  western  face  of  the  Fort,  where  they 
would  do  good  service  should  an  enemy  attempt  to  skirt 
the  hill  and  approach  at  that  side.  The  pieces  were 
heavy,  the  appliances  crude  and  clumsy,  a shrewd  east 
wind  was  driving  in  a sea-fog  of  the  chillest  description, 
and  Standish,  although  he  toiled  and  tugged  with  the 
best,  proved  himself  a martinet  in  his  requirements,  not 
sparing  in  the  heat  of  the  struggle  some  of  those  curious 
oaths  for  which  “ our  army  in  Flanders  ” gained  a name. 
But  the  elder  turned  a deaf  ear  at  these  moments,  and 
neither  the  truly  devout  Carver,  nor  the  elegant  Wins- 
low, nor  formal  Allerton,  nor  self-restrained  Bradford, 
chose  to  notice  these  lapses  on  the  part  of  him  who  was 
giving  all  his  energies  and  all  his  experience  to  their 
defense.  As  the  sun  set,  Master  Jones  straightened  his 
back,  and  setting  his  hands  upon  his  hips  exclaimed,  — 


148 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ There,  then,  my  little  generalissimo,  thy  guns  are 
set,  and  by  thine  own  ordering,  not  mine.  And  let  me 
tell  thee  now,  ’t  is  lucky  thou  and  I do  not  often  train 
in  company,  for  I ’d  sooner  serve  in  an  Algerian  galley 
than  under  thee,  and  if  thou  wast  under  me,  I ’d  shoot 
thee  in  the  first  half  day.” 

Standish,  who  was  on  his  knees  sighting  his  saker,  did 
not  hurry  himself  to  rise,  but  when  he  did  so  turned 
and  eyed  his  ally  with  a grim  smile. 

“ Thou  Tt  right,  Jones.  Two  game-cocks  seldom 
agree  until  they  have  fought  a main  or  two.  Yet  me- 
thinks  I could  train  thee  to  some  tiling  after  a while.” 
Jones’s  red  face  grew  redder  yet,  but  before  his  slow 
wit  had  compassed  a retort,  Carver  interposed,  — 

“ And  now  that  our  good  day’s  work  is  done,  it  is 
seemly  that  we  should  soberly  rejoice  and  exult.  Mas- 
ter Jones,  wilt  thou  and  thy  men  sup  with  us  ? ” 

The  sailor’s  face  cleared  directly,  and  with  a roar  of 
jovial  merriment  he  replied,  — 

“Marry  will  we,  Master  Governor,  an’  if  you  had 
not  bidden  us,  I had  bidden  you  to  the  feast,  for  I 
brought  more  than  cold  iron  ashore,  I promise  you.” 

“ What,  then  ? Some  beer  and  strong  waters  ? ” de- 
manded Hopkins  eagerly. 

“ Ay,  man,  and  a fat  goose  ten  pound  weight,  and 
some  wild  fowl  beside,  and  a whole  runlet  of  beer  and 
a pottle  of  Hollands.  I brought  them  that  we  should 
all  make  merry  for  once,  and  forget  all  that ’s  come  and 
gone,  and  that  you  should  wish  me  a fair  passage  home, 
and  good  luck  on  getting  there.” 

“ Thou  Tt  a good  fellow,  after  all,  Jones,  and  I for 
one  will  meet  thee  half  way,  and  pledge  thee  in  mine 
own  liquor,  and  change  a bit  of  my  tender  crane  shot 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  PROMOTION. 


149 


yesterday  for  a leg  of  thy  goose.”  So  saying,  Standish 
smote  the  sailor  upon  his  shoulder,  and  took  his  great 
paw  into  the  grasp  of  a hand  small  and  shapely,  but  of 
such  iron  grip  that  the  burly  fellow  winced,  and  wring- 
ing away  his  fingers  cried,  — 

“Nay,  then,  thou’rt  more  cruel  as  a friend  than 
thou  ’rt  maddening  as  a master.  I ’ll  none  of  thee.’  ’ 

“ And  where  are  thy  generous  gifts  now  bestowed  ? 99 
asked  Bradford  practically. 

“ In  the  Common  house.  I bade  Clarke  go  down  the 
hill  after  our  snack  at  noon,  and  take  them  all  out 
of  the  boat’s  cuddy  and  carry  them  up  to  goodwife 
Billington,  who  is  a famous  cook,  of  wild  fowl  in  par- 
ticular ’*  — 

“ She  hath  had  practice  while  her  goodman  was 
poach  — nay,  then,  I mean  gamekeeper  on  my  Lord 
the  Marquis  of  Carrabas’s  estates,”  put  in  Standish 
gravely,  and  Billington,  who  stood  by,  started,  tried  to 
look  fierce,  but  ended  with  a craven  laugh. 

“ Then  Alden,”  suggested  the  Governor,  “ thou  hadst 
best  tell  the  women  at  the  elder’s  house  to  send  over 
their  own  vivers,  or  a portion  of  them,  to  the  Common 
house,  and  we  will  all  sup  together.  We  have  the  cap- 
tain’s crane  and  a brace  of  mallards,  and  a salted  neat’s 
tongue,  with  some  other  matters,  Master  Jones,  and  can 
methinks  well  forget  for  one  night  that  hunger  and  cold 
and  danger  are  lying  at  the  door.  ’T  is  wise  to  be 
merry  at  times  that  we  may  better  bear  trouble  at 
others.” 

“Ay,  ’tis  a poor  heart  that  never  rejoices,”  replied 
the  Master,  in  what  for  him  was  a pleasant  voice,  al- 
though with  a suspicious  look  around,  lest  anybody- 
should  be  jeering  at  his  unwonted  amenity. 


150 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH . 


But  Standish  was  casting  a comprehensive  look  about 
his  little  fortalice  to  see  if  all  was  ready  to  he  left  for  the 
night,  and  the  younger  men  were  already  going  down 
the  hill,  and  Carver  and  Bradford  stood  awaiting  their 
guest  with  cheerful  and  open  countenance,  devoid  of 
mischief  or  guile.  So  the  old  sea-dog  sheathed  his 
fangs,  restrained  his  growl,  and  assumed  the  bearing  of 
coarse  good  humor  which  was  his  rare  concession  to  the 
claims  of  good  society. 

And  now  Alden  hasting  upon  his  errand  found  that 
Priscilla  had  already  been  warned  by  Helen  Billington 
of  the  proposed  feast,  and  with  Mistress  Brewster’s  con- 
sent had  arranged  the  tables  in  the  Common  house, 
and  added  to  the  heavier  viands  some  delicate  dishes 
of  her  own  composition,  finishing  by  making  a kettle 
of  plum  - porridge  whereon  the  women  were  to  regale 
themselves  in  the  Brewster  kitchen  while  their  lords 
feasted  in  the  Common  house. 

And  thus  with  sober  mirth  and  honest  friendliness 
dosed  a day  so  important  in  the  annals  of  the  settlement 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


SECOND  MARRIAGES. 

Doubtless  the  Indians  lurking  in  the  woods  of 
Watson’s  Hill  had  watched  with  wonder  and  alarm  the 
process  of  mounting  and  securing  the  ordnance  of  the 
Fort,  itself  a novel  structure  in  their  eyes,  and  wisely 
concluded  to  consider  the  question  of  peace  or  war  a 
little  further  before  bringing  it  to  an  open  issue.  At 
any  rate,  they  were  no  more  seen  at  present,  and  the 
colonists  wasted  no  time  in  pursuing  them,  but  as  the 
ground  dried  and  warmed  hastened  to  put  in  such  grain 
and  garden  seeds  as  they  had  provided,  and  to  lay 
out  the  little  plots  of  ground  attached  to  each  house. 
Among  the  other  crops  was  one  whose  harvest  no  man, 
woman,  or  child  of  that  well-nigh  famished  company 
would  have  eaten,  a crop  of  wheat  whose  ripened  seeds 
were  allowed  to  fall  as  they  would,  to  sink  again  into 
the  earth;  or  to  feed  the  birds  of  heaven,  for  it  was  sown 
above  the  leveled  graves  of  that  half  the  Pilgrims  who 
in  the  first  four  months  found  the  city  that  they  sought. 
So  numerous  and  so  prominent  upon  the  bold  bluff  of 
Cole’s  Hill  were  these  graves  becoming,  that  Standish, 
overlooking  the  town  from  the  Fort  and  his  home  close 
beneath  its  walls,  pointed  out  to  Carver  and  Bradford 
that  the  savages,  doubtless  as  keen  - eyed  as  himself, 
would  in  seeing  how  many  of  the  invaders  were  under 
ground  find  courage  to  attack  those  still  living,  and  it 
was  his  proposal  that  the  earth  should  be  leveled  and 
planted. 


152 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ To  what  crop  ? ” asked  Bradford. 

“ It  matters  not,”  replied  Standish  a little  impa* 
tiently.  “No  man  will  care  to  eat  of  it,  knowing  what 
lies  beneath.” 

“ ‘ Thou  so  west  not  that  body  that  shall  be,  but  bare 
grain,  it  may  chance  of  wheat  or  of  some  other  grain, 
but  God  giveth  it  a body,’  ” quoted  Carver  in  a low 
voice,  and  Standish  reverently  answered,  — 

“ Ay.  Let  it  be  wheat,  since  that  is  Paul’s  order.” 

But  that  night  as  the  sun  was  setting  behind  the 
gloomy  evergreen  forest  closing  the  western  horizon, 
the  captain,  avoiding  his  comrades,  went  quietly  up  the 
hill  to  the  Fort,  and  thence  made  a circuit  northward 
and  eastward  so  as  to  come  out  upon  the  bluff  of  Cole’s 
Hill.  Passing  among  the  graves  with  careful  feet  he 
presently  stood  beside  one,  mounded  and  shaped  with 
care,  and  protected  by  willow  rods  bent  over  it  and  into 
the  ground  at  either  side.  Recently  cut,  these  boughs 
yet  bore  their  pretty  catkins,  and  the  leaves  which 
had  already  started  seemed  inclined  to  persist  in  life 
and  growth. 

Removing  his  buff -cap  and  folding  his  arms  Standish 
stood  long  beside  this  grave,  silent  and  almost  stern  of 
look,  but  his  heart  eloquent  with  that  deep  and  inarticu- 
late language  in  which  great  souls  commune  with  God, 
and  with  those  mysteries  of  life  so  far  transcending 
man’s  comprehension  or  powers  of  definition. 

At  last  he  gently  pulled  up  the  ends  of  the  willow 
rods  at  one  side,  and  passing  round  to  the  other  would 
have  done  the  same,  but  seeing  how  fresh  and  green 
they  looked  held  his  hand. 

“ They  would  grow  an’  I left  them,”  muttered  he  ; but 
then  with  a mournful  gesture  added  in  the  same  tone, 


SECOND  MARRIAGES . 153 

“ Nay,  then,  what  need.  I shall  know  where  thou  liest, 
Rose,  and  ” — 

Not  ungently  he  drew  the  twigs  from  the  earth,  and 
stood  holding  them  in  his  hand  as  a voice  behind  him 
said,  — 

“Ay,  brother,  we  must  say  good-by  even  to  the 
graves  we  have  loved.  Stern  necessity  is  our  master.” 
Standish,  ill  pleased  at  the  interruption,  turned  a dark 
face  upon  the  new-comer. 

“ And  yet  I have  heard,  Master  Winslow,  that  thou 
art  already  speaking  of  marriage  with  Mistress  White. 
Is  stern  necessity  master  there  also  ? ” 

“ Yes,  Standish,”  replied  Winslow  frowning  a little 
and  speaking  more  coldly  than  at  first.  “You  may  see 
it  for  yourself.  Here  are  we,  a scant  threescore  souls, 
not  one  score  grown  men,  come  to  people  a savage  land 
and  make  terms  with  hordes  of  savage  inhabitants.  Is 
it  not  the  clearest,  ay,  sternest  necessity  that  those  of 
us  who  are  unwived,  to  our  sorrow  though  it  be,  should 
take  the  women  who  remain,  be  they  maids  or  widows, 
in  honorable  wedlock,  and  rear  up  children  to  fill  our 
places  when  we  are  gone  ? Have  we  a right,  man,  to 
follow  our  own  fantasies  and  mourn  and  mourn  like 
cushat  doves  over  the  graves  of  our  lost  mates  while  the 
women  we  ought  to  cherish  struggle  on  uncared  for  ? ” 

“ Hast  put  the  matter  in  this  light  to  William  White’s 
widow  ? ” asked  Standish  sarcastically. 

“Nay,”  returned  Winslow  with  his  usual  calm. 
“Words  that  suit  men  are  not  always  for  women’s  ears. 
What  I may  say  to  Susanna  White  is  not  of  necessity 
the  business  of  the  Council”  — 

“ Any  more  than  my  errand  here  to-night,”  retorted 
Standish,  the  spark  kindling  in  his  brown  eyes. 


154 


STANDISff  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Softly,  brother,  softly/’  replied  Winslow  in  his  meas« 
ured  tones,  and  laying  a finger  upon  the  other’s  arm. 
“ It  would  ill  befit  us  two  to  quarrel  here  between  thy 
wife’s  grave  and  mine.  We  are  brethren,  and  if  I said 
aught  that  mispleased  thee  I am  right  sorry  ” — 

“Nay,  then,  ’tis  I was  hasty,”  interrupted  Standish. 
“ Surely  thy  marriage  is  thine  own  affair,  not  mine,  and 
I wish  you  godspeed  with  all  my  heart.” 

“ And  yet,  brother,  I am  not  all  content  lacking  thine 
approval,  for  there  is  neither  head  nor  heart  in  the  col- 
ony more  honorable  than  thine.” 

“ ‘ He  who  praises  thee  to  the  face  is  a false  friend  ; 
the  true  one  reproveth  thee,’  ” quoted  Standish  with  his 
peculiar  grim  smile. 

“ And  am  not  I reproving  thee  for  thy  selfish  dis- 
regard of  the  common  weal  ? ” persisted  Winslow,  his 
own  smile  a little  forced.  “ Nay,  then,  must  I bewray 
confidence  and  tell  thee  that  one  who  knows  assures  me 
that  Priscilla  Molines  would  not  say  thee  nay  wert  thou 
to  ask  her  ? ” 

“ Pst ! What  folly  art  thou  at  now,  Master  Wins- 
low ? This  is  no  more  than  woman’s  gossip.  Some  of 
thy  new  love's  havers,  I ’ll  be  bound.” 

“ Did  not  William  Molines  send  to  seek  speech  with 
thee  the  night  he  died  ? ” asked  Winslow  fixing  his 
keen  eyes  upon  the  soldier’s  perturbed  face. 

“ Ay,  but  it  was  he  and  I alone.” 

“ Well,  then,  he  had  taken  counsel  first  with  a godly 
matron,  in  whose  judgment  he  trusted.” 

“ Mistress  White  ? ” 

“Ay.” 

“ I would  I had  known  it  that  day.”  And  with  no 
farther  good-by  the  Captain  turned  and  strode  down 
the  hill  ill  pleased. 


SECOND  MARRIAGES. 


155 


The  next  day  rose  warm  and  misty.  The  veiled  sun 
seemed  smiling  behind  the  soft  vapors,  and  the  earth 
throbbing  with  the  sweet  hopes  of  spring  smiled  back  at 
him.  The  leaves  of  willow,  and  alder,  and  birch,  and 
maple,  and  elm,  uncurled  their  delicate  fronds  and  shyly 
held  out  hands  of  welcome  to  the  south  wind  ; the  birds 
sang  clear  and  sweet  in  the  woods,  and  the  delicate 
springs  of  sweet  water  answered  back  with  rippling 
laughter  and  joyous  dance. 

“ A goodly  scene,  a veritable  garden  of  the  Lord,” 
said  William  Bradford  standing  outside  the  elder’s 
door,  and  gazing  down  upon  the  valley  of  Town  Brook, 
and  across  at  the  wood-covered  hillside  beyond.  Stan- 
dish,  whom  he  addressed,  was  just  coming  out  of  the 
house,  after  his  breakfast,  and  without  reply  laid  his 
hand  upon  the  younger  man’s  arm  and  led  him  up  the 
hill. 

“ Whither  bound  this  fair  morning  my  Captain  ? ” 
asked  Bradford,  in  whose  blood  the  brave  morning  air 
worked  like  wine. 

“ First  to  fetch  my  snaphance,  and  then  I will  have 
thee  into  the  wood  for  a stroll  to  enjoy  thy  fine  day, 
and  to  hold  counsel  with  thy  friend.” 

“ And  that  is  ever  to  mine  own  advantage,”  replied 
Bradford  with  affectionate  honesty.  Standish  glanced 
at  him  with  the  rare  sweetness  sometimes  lighting  the 
rigor  of  his  soldierly  face,  and  as  they  had  reached  the 
door  of  the  cabin  nestled  beneath  the  Fort,  where  John 
Alden  and  his  friend  abode,  Standish  entered,  leaving 
the  future  governor  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  the  wider 
view  outspread  at  his  feet.  Climbing  still  further  to  the 
platform  of  the  Fort,  he  stood  lost  in  reverie,  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  lonely  Mayflower,  sole  occupant  of  the 


156 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


harbor,  as  she  clumsily  rode  at  anchor  tossing  upon  the 
flood  tide. 

“ We  shall  miss  the  crazy  craft  when  she  is  gone,” 
said  Standish  rejoining  him. 

“ Ay.  She  is  the  last  bit  of  Old  England,”  replied 
Bradford,  musingly.  For  a few  moments  the  two  men 
stood  intently  gazing  upon  the  vessel,  each  heart  busy 
with  its  own  thoughts,  then,  as  by  a common  impulse 
turned,  descending  the  side  of  the  hill  toward  the  lower 
spring,  and  passed  into  the  forest. 

u What  is  thy  matter  for  counsel,  friend  ? ” asked 
Bradford  finding  that  Standish  strode  on  in  what 
seemed  gloomy  silence. 

“ Yon  ship.” 

“ The  Mayflower  ? ” 

“ What  other  ? She  brought  a hundred  souls  to  these 
shores  some  six  months  agone.” 

“ Ay,  and  now  we  are  fifty.” 

“ Fifty  alive,  and  fifty  under  the  sea,  or  on  yon  head- 
land where  to-day  we  level  the  mounds  over  their  poor 
bodies  and  plant  wheat  to  cheat  the  salvages.” 

“ ’T  is  too  true,  good  friend,  and  well  I wot  that  the 
delight  of  thine  eyes  lies  buried  there  ” — 

“ And  thine  beneath  the  waters  of  our  first  harbor,” 
interrupted  Standish  harshly,  for  the  proud,  tender  heart 
could  not  bear  even  so  light  a touch. 

“ Yes,”  replied  Bradford  briefly,  and  over  his  face 
passed  a cloud  blotting  out  all  the  boyish  enjoyment  of 
scene  and  hour  that  had  enlivened  its  ordinarily  thought- 
ful features.  Was  Dorothy  May  indeed  the  delight  of 
his  eyes  and  heart  ? 

“ Yes,  we  two  men  came  hither  husbands,  and  to-day 
we  stand  as  widowers,  and ’t  is  in  that  matter  I seek 


SECOND  MARRIAGES. 


157 


counsel,”  exclaimed  Standish  suddenly  as  he  turned  to 
face  his  friend.  “ Last  night,  Master  Winslow  stand- 
ing between  the  graves  of  his  wife  and  mine,  read  me  a 
lecture  upon  the  duty  unwived  men  owe  to  the  commu- 
nity. He  says  it  is  naught  but  selfishness  to  let  our  pri- 
vate griefs  rule  our  lives,  that  we  are  bound  to  seek  new 
mates  and  raise  up  children  to  carry  on  the  work  we 
have  begun.  Nor  can  we  doubt  his  own  patriotism,  or 
the  honesty  of  his  counsels,  for  already  he  has  spoken 
to  the  widow  of  William  White,  and  his  own  wife  but 
six  weeks  under  ground.” 

“ Yes,  I know  — they  will  be  wed  shortly,”  replied 
Bradford  a little  embarrassed.  Standish  eyed  him 
keenly. 

“ And  thou  art  of  his  mind,  and  mayhap  thine  own 
new  mate  is  already  bespoken  ? ” demanded  he  in  an- 
gry surprise. 

“ Nay,  Standish,  thou  ’rt  not  reasonable  to  quarrel 
with  another  man’s  conscience  so  that  it  thwarts  not 
thine,”  replied  Bradford  patiently,  although  the  color 
rose  to  his  cheek  as  he  felt  the  scorn  of  his  comrade’s 
voice.  “ Neither  Winslow  nor  I would  do  aught  that 
we  could  not  answer  for  to  God,  and  have  not  we  come 
to  this  wilderness  that  we  might  be  free  to  serve  Him 
only,  in  matters  of  conscience  ? ” 

“ I meant  not  to  forget  courtesy,  nay,  nor  friendship 
neither,  Bradford ; but  my  speech  is  ever  hasty  and  none 
too  smooth.  So  thou  wilt  marry,  anon  ? ” 

“ I ’ll  tell  thee  friend,  and  thou  ’rt  the  first  I ’ve  told. 
There  is  a lady  in  the  old  country  ” — 

“ Which  old  country  ? The  Netherlands  or  Eng- 
land ? ” 

" She  is  in  England  now,  or  was  when  we  set  forth. 


158 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Thou  must  have  seen  her,  Standish,  — Alice  Carpenter, 
who  wedded  Edward  Southworth  in  Amsterdam.” 

“ Oh,  ay.  A goodly  crop  of  daughters  had  Father 
Carpenter,  and  not  one  hung  on  hand  so  soon  as  she  was 
marriageable.  Truly,  I remember  Mistress  Southworth 
well,  a fair  and  discreet  dame.  And  she  was  left  a 
widow  not  many  days  before  we  left  England,  if  I mis- 
take not.” 

“ Ay.  One  little  week.” 

“ And  didst  thou  woo  her  as  in  the  play  I saw  when 
last  I was  in  London,  King  Richard  wooed  the  widow 
of  him  he  had  slain,  following  her  husband’s  corse  to  the 
grave  ? Nay  then,  nay  then,  man,  I meant  it  not 
awry.  But  to  ask  a woman  within  one  week  of  her 
widowhood,  and  thou  still  wived  ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  nay,  Myles,  thou  ’rt  all  aglee  and  I doubt 
me  if  I had  not  better  kept  mine  own  counsel.  I have 
not  looked  upon  Alice  Carpenter’s  face  nor  heard  her 
voice  since  she  was  Southworth’s  wife.” 

“ Oh,  ay  — I see,  I see  — ’t  is  an  old  flame  and  thou 
’rt  of  mind  to  try  to  kindle  it  once  more.  You  were 
sweethearts  of  old,  eh,  lad  ? ” 

“ Something  so,  — though  I meant  not  to  say  so 
much,  and  now  must  leave  the  secret  in  thine  honor, 
Captain.” 

“ Dost  doubt  the  ward,  Bradford  ? ” 

“ Nay.  I trust  thee  as  myself,  and  thou  knowest  it. 
Why  must  thou  ever  be  so  hot,  Myles  ? Yes,  when 
Master  Carpenter  and  his  fair  troop  of  daughters  came 
to  Leyden  it  was  not  long  until  I saw  that  Alice  was 
both  fairest  and  sweetest  of  them  all ; but  thou  knowest 
the  fight  we  had  for  bread,  winning  it  by  strange  and  un- 
accustomed labors : I,  who  knew  naught  but  my  books, 


SECOND  MARRIAGES. 


159 


and  something  of  husbandry,  becoming  a weaver  of 
baize ; Brewster  a ribbon  weaver,  Tilley  a silk  worker, 
Cushman  a wool  comber,  Eaton  a carpenter,  and  so  on  ; 
well,  goodman  Carpenter  was  loth  to  trust  his  maid  to 
such  scant  living  as  I could  offer,  nor  would  he  let  us 
even  call  ourselves  troth-plight ; and  Alice,  the  gentle, 
timid  maid  that  she  was,  yielded  all  to  her  father’s  will, 
and  I,  in  the  naughty  pride  of  a young  man’s  heart,  was 
angered  that  she  would  not  promise  to  hold  herself 
against  all  importunities,  and  we  quarreled,  or  forsooth 
I should  say  I quarreled,  and  flung  away,  and  I knew 
Dorothy  May  and  her  kin,  and  she,  poor  soul,  was 
ready  to  wed  as  her  father  willed  ” — 

“ Enough  Will,  enough  ; it  is  not  good  to  put  all 
that  is  in  one’s  heart  into  words.  I see  the  whole  story. 
And  now  thou  ’It  write  to  Mistress  Southworth  and  ask 
her  to  come  out  with  the  residue  of  our  company,  and 
become  thy  wife  ? ” 

“ Ay,  dear  friend,  that  is  my  plan,”  said  Bradford, 
wringing  the  hand  Standish  extended,  and  turning  his 
flushed  face  aside. 

“ And  why  not  ? ” asked  Myles  heartily.  “ ’T  is  no 
new  affair,  no  hasty  furnishing  forth  of  a marriage  feast 
with  the  cold  vivers  of  the  funeral  tables,  as  yon  fellow 
said  in  the  play.  ’T  is  marvelous  like  one  of  those  old 
romaunts  my  kinswoman  Barbara  used  to  tell  over  to 
me  and  the  dear  lass  that ’s  gone.  There  now  — and 
thou  hadst  not  this  matter  in  hand,  I ’d  wive  thee  to 
Barbara  Standish  — ’t  is  the  best  wench  alive,  I do  be- 
lieve, and  full  of  quip,  and  crank  as  a jest  book.” 

“ Thy  cousin  ? ” asked  Bradford  rather  absently. 

“ Ay,  but  I know  not  just  how  nigh.  Her  father  held 
for  his  lifetime  a little  place  of  ours  on  the  Isle  of  Man, 


160 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


and  I,  trying  to  find  an  old  record  that  should  give  me 
a fair  estate  feloniously  held  from  me  now,  went  over 
there  once  and  again,  and  so  met  Rose,  and  went  yet 
again  and  again,  until  we  two  wed,  and  I carried  her 
away  to  my  friends  in  the  Netherlands.” 

“ And  is  thy  cousin  wed  ? ” 

“ Nay,  did  not  I say  I ’d  like  to  give  her  to  thee  to 
wife  ? But  barring  that,  I ’ll  send  for  her  to  come  with 
the  next  company,  perchance  under  charge  of  thy  sober 
widow,  Will,  and  I ’ll  marry  her  to  one  of  these  our 
good  friends  here.  So  if  I do  not  marry  myself,  for  the 
weal  of  the  community  as  Winslow  says,  I shall  purvey 
for  some  one  of  them  a wife  and  mother  of  children  in 
my  stead.” 

“ ’T  is  well  thought  on,  Captain,”  replied  Bradford 
laughing,  “ and  I can  promise  that  if  Mistress  South- 
worth  makes  the  voyage  she  will  gladly  take  charge  of 
thy  cousin,  for  whom  we  will  choose  a husband  of  our 
best.  But  why  wilt  not  thou  marry  again,  thyself? 
Was  not  that  in  thy  mind  in  speaking  of  counsel  ? ” 

“ Ay  — nay  — in  good  sooth  I know  not,  lad.  I fain 
would  know  thine  own  intentions,  and  I have  them,  but 
for  myself  — truth  to  tell,  I care  not  to  wed  again.  I 
lived  many  years  with  only  my  good  sword  here  as 
sweetheart  and  comrade,  and  I was  well  stead,  and  — 
none  can  make  good  the  treasure  late  found  and  soon 
lost  — but  yet  — come  now,  Will,  confidence  for  confi- 
dence, I ’ll  tell  thee  somewhat  ” — 

“ Touching  fair  Mistress  Priscilla  ? ” asked  Bradford 
with  a smile  of  quiet  humor. 

“ Aha  ! ’ exclaimed  Standish,  a swarthy  color  mount- 
ing to  his  cheek.  “ ’T  is  common  talk,  then  ! ” 

“ Well,  I know  not  — certes  I have  heard  it  spoken 


SECOND  MARRIAGES . 


161 


on  more  than  once,  but  to  say  6 common  talk  ’ — we 
who  are  left  alive  are  so  few  and  so  bound  together  that 
?tis  no  more  than  a family,  and  the  weal  of  each  is  com- 
mon to  all.” 

“ But  what  hast  thou  heard,  in  very  truth  ? ” 

“ Why,  naught,  except  that  Priscilla  hath  a sort  of 
kindness  for  thee,  and  thou  hast,  in  a way,  made  her 
affairs  thine  own,  and  so  ’t  was  naught  but  likely  ” — 

“ Ay,  ay,  I see,  I ever  had  but  an  ill  idea  of  great 
families,  having  been  born  into  one  myself,  — as  thou 
sayest,  the  affairs  of  one  are  the  gossip  of  all.” 

“ Nay,  I said  ” — 

“ Pst,  man,  I know  what  thou  saidst,  and  what  I 
think,  so  hold  thy  peace.  Nay,  then,  this  idle  prating 
hath  a certain  foundation,  as  smoke  aye  shows  some  little 
fire  beneath,  and  I ’ll  tell  it  thee.  When  William  Mo- 
lines  lay  a-dying  his  mind  was  sore  distraught  at  leaving 
his  poor,  motherless  maid  alone,  for  his  son  Joseph  had 
gone  before  him,  so  he  sent  for  me  to  watch  with  him 
that  night,  and  somewhere  in  the  small  hours  we  thought 
his  time  had  come,  and  he  besought  me  to  promise  that 
I would  take  the  maid  under  my  keeping  and  not  let 
her  come  to  want.  He  said  naught  of  marriage,  nor  did 
I,  for  my  wife  was  but  then  at  rest,  and  such  speech 
would  have  been  unseemly  for  him  and  hateful  to  me. 
I took  his  words  as  they  were  spoken,  and  I gave  my 
promise,  and  so  far  as  there  was  need  I have  kept  it, 
and  seen  that  the  maid  was  housed  and  fed  and  looked 
after  by  Mistress  Brewster,  but  more,  I thought  not 
on.” 

“ Master  Molines  was  a discreet  and  careful  man  and 
seldom  told  out  all  his  thought,”  said  Bradford  astutely. 
u Methinks  he  counted  upon  6 the  way  of  a man  with  a 


162 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


maid,’  and  left  it  to  thee  to  find  out  the  most  perfect 
plan  of  caring  for  a young  gentlewoman.” 

“ Dost  think  so,  Will  ? Dost  think  he  meant  me  to 
take  her  to  wife  ? Dost  think  she  so  considers  it  ? ” 
and  Myles  snatching  off  his  barret-cap  pushed  up  the 
hair  from  his  suddenly  heated  and  burning  forehead. 
Bradford  looked  at  him  with  his  peculiar  smile  of  sub- 
tle humor  and  shrewd  kindliness. 

“ Why,  Myles,  thou  lookst  fairly  frightened  ! Thou 
who  never  counted  the  foe,  or  thought  twice  ere  lead- 
ing a forlorn  hope,  or  asked  quarter  of  Turk  or  Span- 
iard ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  nay,  Will,  spare  thy  gibes  ! Here  is  a 
moil,  here  is  an  ambushment ! Here  am  I,  going  fair 
and  softly  on  mine  own  way,  and  of  a sudden  the  trap 
is  sprung,  and  Honor  starts  up  and  cries,  ‘ There ’s  but 
one  way  out  of  it,  take  it,  willy-nilly  ! ’ If  the  maid  is 
of  her  father’s  mind  I am  bound  to  her.” 

“ I think  she  would  not  say  thee  nay,”  said  Bradford 
demurely. 

“ Thou  hast  no  right  to  avow  that,  Will,  and  I were 
but  a sorry  knave  to  believe  it.  A lady’s  yea-say  is  an 
honor  to  any  man,  and  he  who  receives  it  must  do  so  in 
all  reverence.  No  man  hath  a right  to  fancy  or  to  say 
that  a modest  maid  is  ready  with  yea  or  nay  before  she 
is  asked.” 

“ Thou  art  right,  and  I wrong,  Myles,  and  in  truth  I 
know  naught  of  Mistress  Priscilla’s  mind.” 

“ But  I will,  and  that  ere  many  days  are  past.  Thou 
hast  done  me  a good  turn,  Will,  in  showing  me  where  I 
stand.  I dreamed  not  that  Molines  was  — well,  — he 
died  peacefully  and  I will  not  disturb  his  rest.  Yes,  I 
will  but  wait  until  the  Mayflower  is  gone  and  my  cabin 


SECOND  MARRIAGES. 


weather-tight,  and  the  garden  sown,  and  then  I 
speak  with  Priscilla.  If  Barbara  comes  she  ’ll  be 
good  company  for  both  of  us.” 

Again  Bradford  smiled  very  quietly,  and  the  two 
walked  on  in  silenCv 


163 

will 

rare 

men 


CHAPTER  XY 


SAMOSET. 

Once  more  the  freemen  of  the  colony  were  convened 
in  Council  around  the  well-scoured  table  in  the  principal 
room  of  the  Common  house,  become  for  the  nonce  a 
House  of  Commons,  and  Captain  Standish  was  explain- 
ing the  scheme  he  had  arranged  for  organizing  his  little 
army,  when  again  the  solemnity  of  the  meeting  was  in- 
vaded by  shrill  cries  of  alarm  and  anger,  this  time,  how- 
ever, in  a solo  rather  than  chorus,  for  goodwife  Billing- 
ton  having  taken  the  field,  her  more  timid  sisters  were 
abashed  into  silence. 

“ Thou  foul  beast,  I say  begone  ! Scat ! Avaunt ! 
Nay,  grin  not  at  me  thou  devil  straight  from  hell ! 
Wait  but  till  I fetch  a bucket  of  boiling  water  to  throw 
over  thee,  thou  Cheshire  cat ! I ’ll  soon  see  how  much 
of  thy  nasty  color  is  fast  dye  ” — 

“ What  means  this  unseemly  brawling  ? ” sternly  de- 
manded Elder  Brewster  as  Standish  ceased  speaking, 
and  all  eyes  involuntarily  turned  toward  the  door. 

“ Billington,  the  voice  is  that  of  thy  wife.  Go,  and 
warn  her  that  we  tolerate  no  common  scolds  in  our 
midst,  and  that  the  cucking-stool  and  the  pillory  ” — 

But  the  elder’s  threats  and  Billington’s  shamefaced 
obedience  and  the  wonder  of  all  who  had  listened  to 
the  outbreak  were  cut  short  by  a startling  apparition 
upon  the  threshold ; the  savages  had  really  come  at  last, 
or  at  least  one  of  them,  for  here  stood,  tall  and  erect, 


SAMOSET. 


165 


the  splendid  figure  of  a man,  naked  except  for  a waist- 
band of  buckskin  fringe,  his  skin  of  a bright  copper 
color  glistening  in  the  morning  sun,  and  forming  a rich 
background  for  the  vari-colored  paints  with  which  it 
was  decorated ; his  coarse,  black  hair,  cut  square  above 
the  eyebrows,  fell  upon  his  shoulders  at  the  back,  and 
was  ornamented  by  three  eagle-feathers  woven  into  its 
tresses ; in  his  hand  he  carried  a bow  nearly  as  tall  as 
himself,  and  two  arrows  ; a sharp  little  hatchet,  evi- 
dently of  European  make,  was  thrust  into  his  girdle,  but 
the  keenness  of  its  edge  was  less  than  that  of  the  glances 
with  which  he  watched  the  slightest  movement  of  the 
armed  men  who  started  to  their  feet  at  his  approach. 

The  savage  was  the  first  to  speak,  and  his  utterance 
has  become  as  classic  as  Caesar’s  “ Veni,”  — for  it  was,  — 

“ Welcome  ! ” 

As  he  pronounced  it,  and  looked  about  him  with 
kindly,  if  wary  eyes,  the  Pilgrims  drew  a long  breath, 
and  the  tense  anxiety  of  the  moment  lapsed  into  as' 
pects  various  as  the  temperaments  of  the  men. 

u What ! Do  these  men  speak  English,  then  ! ” ex- 
claimed Allerton  bewildered,  while  Standish  mut- 
tered, — 

“ Look  to  your  side-arms,  men.  He  may  mean 
treachery,'*  and  noble  Carver,  extending  his  hand, 
said,  — 

“ Thanks  for  your  courtesy,  friend.  How  know  you 
our  language  ? ” 

“ I am  Samoset.  I am  friend  of  Englishmen.  I 
come  to  say  welcome.” 

“ Truly ’t  is  a marvel  to  hear  him  speak  in  our  own 
tongue  and  so  glibly  too.  Mark  you  how  he  chooses 
-bis*  words  as  one  of  some  dignity  himself,”  said  Brad- 


166 


STANDISH  OF  STAND1SR. 


*ford  softly,  but  the  quick  ears  of  the  savage  caught  the 
substance  of  his  words,  and  tapping  his  broad  chest 
lightly  with  his  fingers  he  proudly  replied,  — 

44  Samoset,  sachem  of  Monhegan.  Samoset  do  well 
to  many  Englishmen  in  his  own  country.” 

44  And  where  is  Monhegan,  friend  Samoset  ? ” asked 
Carver  pleasantly.  44  Might  it  be  this  place  ? ” 

44  This  place  Patuxet.  Monhegan  nearer  to  the  sun- 
rise,” replied  Samoset  pointing  eastward. 

44  And  how  far  ? ” 

44  Suppose  walk,  five  days;  big  wind  in  ship,  one 
day.” 

44  And  how  earnest  thou,  and  when  ? ” 

44  Ship.  Three,  four  moons  ago.” 

44  Ah,  then  it  is  not  an  armed  assault  upon  us,”  said 
Carver  aside  and  in  a tone  of  relief. 

44  Nay,  these  salvages  are  more  treacherous  than  a 
quicksand.  Try  him  with  more  questions,”  suggested 
Hopkins,  the  other  men  murmuring  assent,  while  the 
Indian  glancing  with  his  opaque,  black  eyes  from  one 
to  another  showed  not  how  much  he  understood  of  what 
went  on  about  him. 

44  4 In  vino  veritas,’  ” suggested  Bradford  with  a smile. 
44  Were  it  not  well  to  give  him  something  by  way  of 
welcome  ? ” 

44  Samoset  like  beer.  Much  talk  make  throat  dry 
like  brook  in  summer,”  remarked  the  guest,  but  whether 
in  response  or  not  no  one  could  say. 

44  Thou  ’rt  right,  man,  and  though  thy  skin ’s  tawny, 
thy  inside  is  very  like  a white  man’s,”  exclaimed  Stan- 
dish  with  a laugh.  44  John  Alden,  thou  knowest  the 
cupboards  of  this  place  passing  well ; find  our  friend 
wherewith  to  fill  yon  dry  brook-bed  of  a throat ; that  is 
with  the  governor’s  permission.” 


S AMO  SET. 


167 


“ Surely,  surely,  Captain  Standish,”  replied  Carver 
with  gentle  alacrity.  “ Your  word  is  enough.  And 
while  Alden  finds  wherewithal  to  feed  and  quench  his 
thirst,  John  Howland  shall  bring  a mantle  or  cloak  from 
my  house  to  throw  about  him,  for  it  is  not  seemly  that 
our  people  should  see  us  entertaining  a man  stark  as  he 
was  born.” 

“ ’T  is  well  said,  Master  Carver.  I had  some  such 
thought  myself,”  said  Allerton  rather  primly,  while 
Hopkins  and  Billington  exchanged  an  irreverent  grin, 
and  Standish  stroked  his  moustache. 

The  cloak  was  brought,  and  gracefully  accepted  by 
Samoset,  who  evidently  regarded  it  as  a ceremonial  robe 
of  state,  designed  to  mark  his  admittance  as  an  honored 
guest  at  the  white  men’s  board,  and  draping  it  toga- 
wise  across  his  shoulder,  he  sat  down  to  a plentiful 
repast  of  cold  duck,  biscuit,  butter,  cheese,  and  a kind 
of  sausage  called  black  pudding.  To  these  solids  was 
added  a comfortable  tankard  of  spirits  and  water,  from 
which  Samoset  at  once  imbibed  a protracted  draught. 

“ Englishman  have  better  drink  than  poor  Indian,” 
remarked  he  placing  the  tankard  close  beside  his  plate, 
and  seizing  a leg  of  the  duck  in  his  hands. 

“ T is  sure  enough  that  he  has  been  much  with  white 
men,  — yes,  and  Englishmen,  too,  by  the  way  he  takes 
down  his  liquor,”  remarked  Hopkins. 

“ Nay,  methinks  our  Dutch  brethren  could  take  down 
a deep  draught,  too,  and  this  is  their  own  liquor,”  said 
Bradford,  while  Winslow  muttered  in  Carver’s  ear,  — 

“ Let  not  Alden  leave  the  case-bottle  within  reach  of 
the  savage.  Enough  will  loosen  his  tongue,  but  a little 
more  will  bind  it.” 

“True,”  assented  the  Governor,  nodding  to  Alden, 


168 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


who  quietly  replaced  the  bottle  in  the  case  whence  he 
had  taken  it.  Samoset  followed  it  with  longing  eyes, 
but  his  own  dignity  prevented  remonstrance  except  by 
finishing  the  flagon  and  ostentatiously  turning  it  upside 
down. 

After  this,  the  meal  was  soon  finished,  and  the  con- 
versation resumed,  partly  by  signs  and  inference,  partly 
by  Samoset’s  limited  stock  of  English.  By  one  means 
and  the  other  the  Pilgrims  presently  learned  that  Mon- 
hegan  was  a large  island  near  to  the  mainland  in  a 
northeasterly  direction,  and  a great  resort  of  fishing 
vessels,  mostly  English,  with  whose  masters  Samoset,  as 
sachem  of  the  Indians  in  those  parts,  had  both  traded 
and  feasted,  learning  their  language,  their  manners,  and, 
what  was  worse,  their  habits  of  strong  drink  and  pro- 
fanity, neither  of  which  however  seemed  to  have  taken 
any  great  hold  upon  him,  being  reserved  rather  as  ac- 
complishments and  proofs  that  he  too  had  studied  men 
and  manners. 

The  master  of  one  of  these  fishing  craft  some  few 
months  previously  had  invited  the  sachem  to  accompany 
him  across  the  bay  to  Cape  Cod,  where  the  sailor  wished 
to  traffic  with  the  natives,  and  Samoset  had  since  re- 
mained in  this  part  of  the  country  visiting  Massasoit, 
sachem  of  the  Wampanoags,  who  with  a large  party  of 
his  warriors  was  now  lying  in  the  forest  outside  of  the 
settlement,  waiting  apparently  for  the  result  of  Samoset’s 
reconnoissance  before  he  should  determine  on  his  own 
line  of  action. 

Farther  inquiry  elicited  the  fact  that  the  former  in- 
habitants of  Plymouth,  or  Patuxet,  a people  tributary  to 
Massasoit,  but  living  under  their  own  sachem,  had  been 
totally  exterminated  by  a plague,  perhaps  small -pox, 


SAMOSET. 


169 


which  had  swept  over  the  country  two  or  three  years 
before  the  landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  leaving,  so  far  as 
Samoset  could  tell,  only  one  man  alive  ; this  man  seek- 
ing refuge  among  the  Nausets,  the  tribe  to  the  east  of 
Patuxet,  was  one  of  the  victims  entrapped  by  Hunt,  es- 
caping from  whom,  he  lived  a long  time  in  England 
with  a merchant  of  London  named  Slaney,  who  finally 
sent  him  in  a fishing  vessel  to  Newfoundland,  whence 
he  had  made  his  way  back  to  his  friends  on  Cape  Cod. 

“ And  this  man,”  demanded  Winslow  eagerly. 
“ Where  is  he  now  ? Do  ye  not  perceive,  friends,  that 
this  is  an  instrument  shaped  and  fitted  to  our  hands  by 
the  Providence  of  God,  who  hath  also  sent  His  plague 
to  sweep  away  the  inhabitants  of  this  spot  whither  He 
would  lead  His  chosen  people  ? ” 

“ Of  a truth  it  seemeth  so,”  replied  Carver  reverently, 
while  Standish  muttered  in  his  beard,  — 

“ Pity  but  the  salvages  had  known  ’t  was  Providence  ! 
’T  would  have  converted  them  out  of  hand.” 

The  elder  who  had  his  own  opinion  of  the  soldier’s 
orthodoxy  looked  askance  at  the  half-heard  murmuring, 
and  suddenly  demanded,  — 

“ Where,  then,  is  this  man  ? How  call  you  him  ? ” 

“ Tisquantum  he  name.  English  trader  across  big 
water  call  him  other  fool  name.  Red  man  not  know 
it.” 

“ Tisquantum  is  well  enough  for  a name,  but  why  did 
he  not  come  hither  with  you,  Samoset  ? ” 

“ Tisquantum  much  wise.  He  like  see  other  fox  put 
his  paw  in  trap  first  before  he  try  it.”  And  as  he  thus 
betrayed  his  comrade’s  diplomacy  the  savage  allowed  a 
subtle  smile  to  lighten  his  eyes,  which,  with  the  instinct 
that  in  simple  mental  organizations  is  so  much  surer 


170 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


than  reason,  he  fixed  upon  Winslow,  who  laughed  out- 
right as  he  replied,  — 

“ Wiser  than  thou,  Samoset,  me-seemeth.  How  is  it 
thou  wast  so  much  more  daring  than  thy  fellow  ? ” 

“ Samoset  poor  fool.  He  not  know  enough  to  be 
afraid  of  anything.  Not  wise  like  white  man  and  Tis- 
quantum.”  And  the  sachem  with  a superb  smile  settled 
the  tomahawk  at  his  girdle,  and  threw  off  the  folds  of 
his  horseman’s  cloak.  But  the  grim  smile  upon  most  of 
the  faces  around  the  board  showed  that  the  jest  had 
given  no  offense  to  men  who  knew  their  own  and  each 
other’s  courage,  and  the  conference  presently  broke  up, 
the  visitor  amusing  himself  by  strolling  around  the  vil- 
lage, discreetly  wrapped  in  his  cloak,  and  taking  a ma- 
licious delight  in  encountering  Helen  Billington,  who 
never  failed  to  greet  him  with  a fusillade  of  suppressed 
wrath,  to  which  he  listened  attentively,  as  if  desirous  of 
storing  up  some  of  the  objurgations  for  his  own  future 
use.  As  night  fell,  and  the  guest  showed  no  intention 
of  departure,  some  of  the  more  cautious  settlers  sug- 
gested that  he  should  be  put  on  board  the  Mayflower 
for  safe  keeping,  a plan  which  met  Samoset’s  ready  ap- 
proval, for  as  he  sententiously  remarked,  — 

“ Captain-man  have  much  strong  waters.” 

But  then,  as  now,  he  who  would  navigate  Plymouth 
Harbor  must  take  both  wind  and  tide  into  account,  and 
when  Samoset  with  Cooke,  Browne,  and  Eaton  to  row 
him  reached  the  shallop,  they  found  her  high  and  dry, 
with  a stiff  east  wind  in  her  teeth.  The  next  plan  was 
to  bestow  the  dangerous  guest  safely  on  shore,  and  this 
was  finally  done  in  the  loft  of  Stephen  Hopkins’s  house, 
the  veteran  host  grimly  promising  that  he  should  not 
stir  so  much  as  a finger-nail  but  he  would  know  it ; and 


SAMOSET. 


171 


in  spite  of  goodwife  Billington’s  assurance  to  her  sisters 
that  they  should  one  and  all  be  murdered  in  their  beds 
before  morning,  the  sun  arose  upon  them  in  peace  and 
safety,  and  soon  after  breakfast  the  Indian  was  dis- 
missed with  some  small  gifts,  and  an  agreement  that  he 
should  come  again  the  next  day,  bringing  Squanto,  and 
such  others  as  desired  to  trade  with  the  white  men,  and 
could  offer  skins  of  beaver,  martin,  or  other  valuable  fur. 

“ Could  not  they  fetch  a few  ermine  and  miniver 
skins  while  they  are  at  it,”  suggested  Priscilla.  “ Me- 
thinks  in  this  wilderness  we  women  might  at  least  sol- 
ace ourselves  with  the  show  of  royalty,  sith  we  are  too 
far  from  the  throne  to  have  our  right  disputed.” 

“ Who  knows  but  that  we  may  found  a new  kingdom 
here  in  the  New  World,”  replied  John  Alden  playfully. 
u And  where  should  we  find  a fitter  sovereign  than 
Queen  Priscilla  ? ” 

But  Saturday  passed  over  quietly,  and  it  was  not 
until  Sunday  morning  that  the  Pilgrims  coming  out  of 
the  Common  house  after  the  morning  service  met  Sam- 
oset  stalking  into  the  village  followed  by  five  other  tall 
fellows,  powerful  but  unarmed,  Standish  having  sternly 
warned  Samoset  that  neither  he  nor  his  companions 
must  bring  any  weapon  into  the  white  man’s  settlement 
without  permission.  Much  to  the  relief  of  the  women 
who  encountered  these  guests,  it  was  at  once  seen  that 
Samoset  had  understood  and  communicated  the  hint  in- 
volved in  lending  him  a cloak  to  wear  during  his  pre- 
vious visit,  for  all  were  fully  dressed  in  deerskin  robes 
with  leggings  fastened  to  the  girdle  and  disappearing  at 
the  ankle  within  moccasons  of  a style  very  familiar  to 
our  eyes,  although  a great  marvel  to  those  of  the  Pil- 
grims, who,  however,  soon  adopted  and  enjoyed  them 


172 


STAND1SH  OF  STANDISH. 


highly.  Samoset  and  another  savage,  who  seemed  to  be 
his  especial  associate,  also  carried  each  a finely  dressed 
wild-cat  skin  as  a sort  of  shield  upon  the  left  arm,  and 
all  were  profusely  decorated  with  paint,  feathers,  strings 
of  shells,  and  one  man  with  the  tail  of  a fo*  Gracefully 
draped  across  his  forehead.  All  wore  the  nair  in  the 
cavalier  style,  long  upon  the  shoulders  and  cut  square 
across  the  brow,  and  all  were  comely  and  dignified  look- 
ing warriors. 

The  governor,  elder,  captain,  with  some  other  of  the 
principal  men,  stood  still  in  the  open  space  where  the 
King’s  Highway  crossed  The  Street,  and  greeted,  so- 
berly as  befitted  the  day,  yet  cordially  as  befitted  char- 
ity and  hospitality,  their  guests,  who  watched  with  wary 
eyes  every  movement  of  the  hosts  whom  they  hardly 
trusted,  while  Samoset,  stepping  forward,  unrolled  a fine 
mat,  or  wrapping-rug,  in  his  arm,  and  ceremoniously  laid 
two  axes  and  a wedge  at  the  feet  of  Standish,  saying 
briefly,  — 

“ The  white  chief  has  his  own  again.” 

“ Our  tools.  Yes,  that  is  as  it  should  be,”  replied  the 
captain,  “ although  we  may  not  use  them  to-day.” 

“ Six  hungry  guests  to  divide  the  dinner  with  us ! ” 
exclaimed  Priscilla  in  dismay  as  she  stood  at  Mistress 
Brewster’s  side,  her  glowing  brunette  beauty  shining  out 
in  contrast  with  the  soft  ashen  tints  of  the  older  woman’s 
face. 

“ Ay  ’t  will  put  us  to  our  trumps  to  make  ready 
enough  hot  victual  for  all,”  replied  the  elder’s  wife. 

“ They  shall  have  none  of  the  marchpane  thou  didst 
make  yestere’en,  Priscilla ! ” expostulated  Desire  Minter 
anxiously.  “ There  is  no  more  than  enow  for  us  that  be 
women.” 


SAMOSET.  173 

iL  That  will  rest  as  our  dear  mother  says,”  replied 
Priscilla  smiling  into  Dame  Brewster’s  face. 

44  Nay,  it  needs  not  the  marchpane  thou  madest  so 
toilsomely  to  entertain  these  salvages  to  whom  our 
ship-biscuit  are  a treat,”  and  the  elder  woman  smiled 
tenderly  back  into  the  glowing  face  so  near  her  own. 

So  presently  the  table  in  the  Common  house  was 
spread  with  what  to  the  red  men  was  a feast  of  the 
gods,  and  they  gravely  ate  enough  for  twelve  men,  evi- 
dently carrying  out  the  time-honored  policy  of  Dugald 
Dalgetty  and  of  the  camel,  to  lay  in  as  there  is  oppor- 
tunity provision  not  only  for  the  present,  but  the  fu- 
ture. Dinner  ended,  both  red  and  white  men  assembled 
in  the  open  space  before  mentioned,  now  in  Plymouth 
called  the  Town  Square,  and  the  Indians  grouping 
themselves  in  the  centre  began  what  may  be  called  a 
dance,  although  from  the  gravity  of  their  faces  and 
solemnity  of  their  movements  the  elder  was  seized  with 
a suspicion  that  fairly  turned  him  pale. 

44  Are  the  heathen  creatures  practicing  their  incanta- 
tions and  warlock-work  in  our  very  midst,  and  on  the 
Lord’s  Day  ? ” demanded  he.  44  Stephen  Hopkins,  thou 
knowest  their  devices,  how  is  it  ? ” 

44  Nay,  Elder,”  replied  Hopkins  chuckling  in  spite  of 
his  efforts  at  Sunday  sobriety.  44  It  is  a feast-dance,  a 
manner  of  thanksgiving  ” — 

k4  A sort  of  grace  after  meat,”  suggested  Billington  in 
an  aside  ; but  the  elder  heard  him,  and  turning  the  cur- 
rent of  his  wrath  in  that  direction  exclaimed,  — 

44  Peace,  ribald  ! Thou  art  worse  than  the  heathen 
in  making  sport  of  holy  things.” 

44 1 knew  not  yon  antics  were  holy  things,  Elder,” 
retorted  the  reckless  jester;  but  Standish  ranging  up 
alongside  of  him  muttered,  — 


174 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ One  word  more  and  thou  ’It  deal  with  me,  John 
Billington,,,  and  though  the  reprobate  affected  to  laugh 
contemptuously  he  remained  silent. 

To  the  solemn  feast-dance  succeeded  a more  lively 
measure  accompanied  with  barbarous  sounds  intended 
for  singing,  and  the  performance  ended  with  gestures 
and  pantomime  obviously  suggesting  a treaty  of  amity 
and  peace,  as  indeed  Samoset  presently  interpreted  it, 
closing  the  scene  with  the  offer  of  such  skins  as  the  men 
wore  upon  their  arms,  and  promises  of  more  furs  in  the 
near  future. 

But  the  Sunday  - keeping  Pilgrims  would  not  enter 
even  into  the  semblance  of  trade  upon  that  day,  and,  al- 
though they  could  not  explain  the  reason  to  the  Indians, 
made  them  understand  that  their  dances,  their  singing, 
and  their  gifts,  which  were  of  course  to  be  repaid,  were 
all  impossible  for  them  to  consider  upon  that  day,  and 
that,  in  fact,  the  sooner  they  withdrew  from  the  village 
the  better  their  hosts  would  be  pleased.  Adding  how- 
ever the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  to  the  guilelessness  of 
the  dove,  they  coupled  with  this  dismissal  a very  earnest 
invitation  for  the  savages  to  return  on  the  morrow  and 
bring  more  skins,  indeed  all  that  they  could  spare,  the 
white  men  promising  to  purchase  them  at  a fair  price. 

The  Indians  listened  gravely  to  so  much  of  this  ha- 
rangue as  Samoset  translated  to  them,  and  the  five 
new-comers  at  once,  and  with  no  ceremony  of  farewell, 
glided  one  after  the  other  down  the  path  leading  past 
the  spring  to  Watson’s  Hill,  and  were  no  more  seen ; but 
Samoset  throwing  himself  upon  the  ground  pressed  his 
hands  upon  his  stomach  moaning  loudly  and  declaring 
himself  in  great  agony. 

“He  has  a colic  from  over-feeding.  Give  him  a 


SAMOSET. 


175 


cJose  of  strong  waters  and  capsicum,”  said  the  elder 
compassionately  ; and  Standish  with  a grim  smile  re- 
marked, “ Truly  the  man  hath  been  an  apt  scholar  in 
the  ways  of  civilization.  He  minds  me  of  a varlet  of 
mine  own,  whose  colics  I effectually  cured  after  a while 
by  mingling  a certain  drug  with  the  strong  waters  he 
craved.  ’T  was  better  than  a sea-voyage  for  clearing 
his  stomach.” 

“ Nay,  Captain,  we  ’ll  not  deal  so  harshly  with  the  poor 
fellow  at  the  beginning,  whatever  may  come  at  the  end,” 
said  the  Governor  smiling.  “ Howland,  get  the  man  his 
dram,  and  if  he  will  not  go,  put  him  to  sleep  in  Hop- 
kins’s house  and  under  his  ward.” 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


PRISCILLA  MOLINES*  LETTER. 

“John  Alden,  the  captain  says  thou’rt  a ready 
writer.  Didst  learn  that  along  with  coopering?  ” 

“ Nay,  Mistress  Priscilla,  I was  not  dubbed  cooper 
until  I was  a se’nnight  old,  or  so.” 

“ Oho  ! Then  thy  schoolcraft  all  came  in  the  first 
week  of  thy  life.  Eh  ? ” 

“ Have  thy  way,  Priscilla.  Thou  knowst  well  enow 
thou  canst  not  anger  me.” 

“ Truly  ? Well  I never  cared  to  see  a man  maiden- 
meek.  But  thou  canst  write  ? ” 

“ Ay,  and  so  canst  thou,  I have  heard.” 

“ Heed  not  all  thou  hearest,  John  ; no,  nor  believe  all 
thou  seest.” 

“ But  what  about  my  pencraft  ? Can  I do  aught  for 
thee,  Priscilla  ? ” 

“ Mayhap.” 

“And  what  is  it,  maid?  Well  thou  knowest  that  it 
is  more  than  joy  for  me  to  do  thy  bidding.” 

“ Nay,  I know  not  what  feeling  4 more  than  joy  ’ can 
be,  unless  haply  it  topple  over  t’  other  side  and  become 
woe,  and  I would  be  loth  to  breed  thee  woe.” 

“ And  I am  as  loth  to  let  thee  ; but  still  thou  dost  it 
and  will  do  it.” 

“ Verily ! ” 

“ Ay,  verily ; but  what  is  thy  bidding,  Priscilla  ? for  I 
have  an  errand  on  hand.” 


PRISCILLA  MOLINES ’ LETTER.  177 

“ And  what  weighty  matter  claims  thee  for  its  guar- 
dian ? ” 

“ Nay,  ’t  is  no  such  weighty  matter,  nor  is  it  a secret. 
The  governor  will  have  me  warn  the  men  to  gather  in 
the  Common  house  to-morrow  to  complete  the  affairs 
twice  broken  off  by  the  visit  of  our  red-skinned  neigh- 
bors.” 

“ And  mark  my  words,  John,  they’ll  come  again  to- 
morrow so  sure  as  you  try  to  hold  council.  ’T  is  a fate, 
and  you  ’ll  not  escape  it.” 

“ Pooh,  child ! Dost  believe  in  signs  and  fates  ? ” 

“ My  forbears  did.  Haply  thou  hadst  none,  and  so 
escaped  the  corruption  of  such  folly.” 

“ Nay  now,  Priscilla,  each  one  of  us  has  just  as 
many  grandsires  as  another  all  the  way  back  to  Adam, 
only  some  of  us  have  had  more  important  matter  in 
hand  than  to  reckon  up  their  names,  and  ’t  will  never 
spoil  a night’s  rest  for  me  that  I know  not  if  my  great- 
grandam  was  Cicely  or  Phyllis.  But  tell  me,  mistress, 
what  my  pen  can  do  for  thee  ? ” 

“ Thy  pen ! Then ’t  is  not  thy  heart  or  thy  hand  that 
is  at  my  service  ? ” and  Priscilla  raised  a pair  of  such 
melting  and  velvety  brown  eyes  to  the  somewhat  of- 
fended face  of  the  young  giant  that  he  at  once  tumbled 
into  the  depths  of  abject  submission,  and  trying  to  seize 
her  hand  exclaimed,  — 

“ Oh  sweetheart,  thou  knowest  only  too  well  that  hand 
and  heart  and  all  I have  are  thine  if  thou  wilt  but  take 
them.” 

“Nay,  John,  thou  must  not  speak  so,  no,  nor  touch  my 
hand  until  I give  it  thee  of  mine  own  free  will  ” — 

“ Until  ? Nay,  that  means  that  some  time  thou  wilt 
give  it ! ” 


178 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Well,  then,  I don’t  say  until,  and  if  thou  dost  pester 
me  I ’ll  say  never.  And  I ’ll  ask  John  Howland  to 
write  my  letter.” 

“ Stay,  stay  Priscilla ! If ’t  is  a letter  to  be  written 
let  me  write  it,  for  I was  the  first  one  asked,  and  I ’ll 
not  pester  thee,  lass.  I am  a patient  man  by  nature, 
and  I ’ll  bide  thy  good  pleasure.” 

“There,  now,  that’s  more  sensible,  and  as  my  own 
time  runs  short  as  well  as  thine,  sit  down  at  the  corner 
of  the  table  here  — hast  thy  ink-horn  with  thee  ? Ay, 
well,  here  is  paper  ready,  and  we  have  time  before  I 
must  make  supper.” 

“Yes,  an  hour  or  more,”  said  John  looking  at  some 
marks  upon  the  window  ledge  cut  to  show  the  shadows 
cast  at  noon,  at  sunrise,  and  at  sunset  at  this  time  in  the 
year.  Priscilla  meantime  had  arranged  the  writing  ma- 
terials upon  the  corner  of  the  heavy  oaken  table  with 
its  twisted  legs  and  cross  pieces  still  to  be  seen  in  Pil- 
grim Hall  in  Plymouth  as  Elder  Brewster’s  table,  and 
drawing  up  two  new-made  oaken  stools,  for  the  elder’s 
chair  in  the  chimney-corner  was  not  to  be  lightly  or 
profanely  occupied,  she  said,  — 

“ Come  now,  Master  Alden,  I am  ready.” 

“I  would  thou  wert  ready,”  murmured  John,  but  as 
the  blooming  face  remained  bent  over  the  table,  and  the 
very  shoulders  showed  cold  indifference,  he  continued 
hastily  as  he  seated  himself,  — 

“ And  so  am  I ready.  To  whom  shall  I address  the 
letter  ? ” 

“ Methinks  I would  first  put  time  and  place  at  the 
head  of  the  sheet.  So  have  I noted  that  letters  are 
most  commonly  begun.” 

“ Ay.  Well,  then,  here  is : — 


PRISCILLA  MO  LINES'  LETTER.  179 


46  4 The  Settlement  of  New  Plymouth,  March  the  21st 
inst.  A.  D.  1620/  ” For  thus  in  Old  Style  did  John 
Alden  count  the  date  we  now  should  set  at  March  31st, 
1621.  And  having  written  it  in  the  queer  crabbed 
Saxon  script  we  find  so  hard  to  decipher  he  inquired,  — 
44  And  what  next,  Mistress  Priscilla  ? ” 

44  Next,  Master  John,  thou  mayest  set  down,  — 

44  4 My  well  beloved  ’ ” — 

44  Well,  who  is  thy  well  beloved?”  demanded  John 
pen  in  hand  and  flame  on  cheek. 

44  Nay,  the  name  is  of  no  importance,”  replied  Priscilla 
coldly.  44  Let  us  go  on.” 

44  Very  well,  4 My  well  beloved/  is  set  down.” 

44  4 1 promised  thee  news  of  my  welfare  so  soon  as  op- 
portunity should  serve  to  send  it.’  ” — 

44  Well  ? ” 

— 44  4 And  now  I would  have  thee  know  that  I find 
none  to  take  thy  place  in  my  heart  or  eyes  ’ ” — 

The  young  man  laid  down  his  pen,  and  with  a 
sterner  look  upon  his  face  than  the  teasing  girl  had  ever 
seen  there,  rose  from  the  table  saying,  — 

‘4 1 did  not  deem  thee  so  unmaidenly,  Priscilla,  as  to 
ask  a man  who  loves  thee  to  write  thy  love-messages  to 
one  thou  favorest  more  highly.  ’T  is  not  well  done, 
mistress,  neither  modest  nor  kind.” 

44 1 wonder  at  thy  hardihood,  John  Alden,  putting 
such  reproach  upon  me.  Never  think  again  that  I will 
listen  to  thy  wooing  after  such  insult,  and  thou  stupid 
oaf,  did  I not  tell  thee  that  the  letter  was  to  Jeanne  De 
la  Noye,  my  dear  girl-friend  in  Leyden  ? ” 

44  Nay,  thou  toldst  me  no  such  thing.” 

44  Well,  I tell  thee  now,  and  thou  mayst  put  Jeanne 
after  4 my  well-beloved  ’ at  the  top,  an’  thou  wilt.  Art 
satisfied  now,  thou  quarrelsome  fellow  ? ” 


180 


STANDISff  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Satisfied  that  thou  wilt  bring  me  to  an  untimely 
grave,  thou  wicked  girl ! 99 

“ Well,  then  sit  down  and  finish  my  letter  before  thou 
seekest  that  same  grave,  for  the  shadow  creeps  on  apace. 
Nay,  now,  I will  be  good,  good  John.” 

“ Ah  well-a-day,  I am  indeed  an  oaf,  as  thou  sayest,  to 
be  so  wrought  upon  by  a coy  maid’s  smiles  or  frowns, 
but  have  thy  will  mistress,  have  thy  will.” 

“ Nay  now,  John,  cannot  a big,  brave  fellow  like  thee 
take  a poor  maid’s  folly  more  gently  ? Think  then,  dear 
John,  of  how  forlorn  a maid  it  is;  think  of  the  graves 
under  yon  springing  wheat  ” — 

“ There,  there,  dear  heart,  forgive  my  rude  brutish- 
ness ; forgive  me,  sweet  one,  or  I shall  go  out  and  do 
some  injury  to  myself  or  another,  thou  hast  so  stirred 
my  sluggish  heart  ” — 

But  a peal  of  laughter,  rich  and  sweet  as  a bob-o- 
link’s  song,  cut  short  his  speech,  and  Priscilla  dashing 
away  the  tears  that  hung  in  her  archly  curved  eye- 
lashes exclaimed,  — 

i(  Thy  sluggish  heart,  John!  Why,  thy  heart  is  like 
an  open  tub  of  gunpowder,  and  all  my  poor  thoughtless 
words  seem  sparks  to  kindle  it!  Well,  then,  sith  both 
are  sorry,  and  both  fain  would  be  friends,  let  us  get  on 
with  my  fond  messages  to  Jeanne  and  her  sister  Marie, 
or  I shall  have  to  put  away  my  paper  hardly  the  worse 
for  thy  work.” 

“ Well,  then,  thou  honey  bee,  as  sweet  as  thy  sting 
is  sharp,  what  next  ? ” 

u Tell  her  in  thine  own  words  how  long  we  were 
cooped  in  yon  vile-smelling  old  tub,  and  how  when  we 
landed,  Mary  Chilton  and  not  I was  first  of  all  the 
women  to  leap  upon  the  rock  we  call  our  threshold  ; and 


PRISCILLA  MOLINES'  LETTER.  181 


oh  John,  tell  her  how  I am  orphaned  of  father  and 
mother  and  brother,  and  even  the  dear  old  servant  who 
carried  me  in  his  arms,  and  many  a time  in  Leyden 
walked  behind  us  three  malapert  maids  — oh  me,  oh 
me  I — 

She  turned  away  to  the  window  and  bowed  her  face 
in  her  hands,  smothering  the  sobs  that  she  could  not 
quite  restrain.  John  sat  still,  looking  at  her,  his  own 
eyes  dim  and  his  face  very  pale.  At  this  moment  the 
door  was  suddenly  thrust  open,  and  Standish  entered 
the  room  exclaiming,  — 

“ Is  Alden  here  ? ” 

“Ay,  Captain,”  replied  the  young  man  rising  and 
coming  forward.  Standish  cast  a hasty  glance  at  the 
figure  of  the  young  girl,  another  at  the  young  man’s 
face,  and  motioned  him  to  follow  outside. 

“ Hast  thou  done  aught  to  offend  Mistress  Molines  ? ” 
demanded  he  as  John  drew  the  door  close  after  him. 

“Not  I,”  replied  he  somewhat  indignantly.  “ She 
asked  me  to  write  for  her  to  some  maid  of  her  acquaint- 
ance in  Leyden,  and  when  it  came  to  telling  of  her 
orphanage  and  desolate  estate  her  woman-heart  gave 
way,  and  she  was  moved  to  tears.” 

“ Ay,  ay,  poor  child ! ’T  is  sad  enow,  but  we  will 
put  all  that  right  presently  — yes,  I promised  William 
Molines,  and  so  let  him  die  at  ease,  and  I will  keep  my 
word  to  the  dead.  A husband  and  a home,  and  haply 
a troop  of  little  rogues  and  wenches  at  her  knees  will 
soon  comfort  her  orphanhood,  eh,  John  ? ” 

“ I know  not,  sir  — I — doth  she  know  of  this  com- 
pact betwixt  her  father  and  you  ? ” 

“ Come,  now,  thou  ’rt  not  my  father  confessor,  lad, 
nor  yet  my  general,”  replied  Standish  with  peremptory 


182 


STAND1SH  OF  STANDISH. 


good  humor.  “Get  thee  back  to  thy  pencraft,  and  when 
it  is  done  come  to  me  at  the  Fort,  I have  work  for 
thee.” 

“Yes,  sir.”  And  the  young  man  turned  again  into 
the  house  where  Priscilla,  quite  calm,  but  a little  sub- 
dued in  manner,  awaited  him. 

“ And  now  wilt  thou  set  thy  name  at  the  foot,  Pris- 
cilla ? ” asked  the  scribe  when  the  fourth  side  of  the 
paper  was  nearly  covered. 

“ Let  me  see.  Ah,  there  is  yet  a little  room.  Say, 
6 My  friendly  salutation  to  thy  brothers,  Jacques,  Philip, 
and  little  Guillaume ; and  now  I think  on’t,  Jacques 
asked  me  to  advise  him  if  this  were  a good  place  for  a 
young  man  to  settle,  and  as  I promised,  I will  now  bid 
thee  say  that  to  my  mind  it  is  a place  of  goodly  prom- 
ise, and  I were  glad  indeed  to  see  all  my  friends  of 
the  house  of  De  la  Noye  coming  hither  in  the  next 
ship/  ” 

“I  have  heard  ere  now  that  the  pith  of  a woman’s 
letter  was  in  the  post  scriptum,  just  as  the  sting  of  a 
honey  bee  cometh  at  the  latter  end,”  said  John  dryly. 
“ And  now  wilt  thou  sign  ? ” 

“Yes.  Give  me  the  quill.  Ciel,  how  it  sputters  and 
spatters ! ’T  is  a wondrous  poor  pen,  John.” 

“ It  served  my  turn  well  enow,”  replied  John  survey- 
ing with  a grim  smile  the  childish  signature  surrounded 
with  a halo  of  ink-spatters  ; but  as  not  one  third  of  the 
women  in  the  company  could  have  done  as  well,  Priscilla 
felt  no  more  chagrin  at  not  being  a clerk,  than  a young 
lady  of  to-day  would  at  not  knowing  trigonometry. 

“ And  now  address  it  to  the  Sieur  Jacques  De  la  Noye 
for  Mademoiselle  Jeanne  De  la  Noye,  and  I will  trust 
thee  to  put  it  with  the  letters  already  writ  to  go  by  the 


PRISCILLA  M0L1NES'  LETTER.  183 

Mayflower.  And  thank  thee  kindly,  John,  for  thy 
trouble.’’ 

“ Thou  ’rt  more  than  welcome,  Priscilla.” 

“ But  why  so  grave  upon ’t,  lad  ? ” 

“ ( The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness/  and  mine 
hath  no  lack  of  bitter  food,  Priscilla.” 

“ Nay,  perhaps  thou  turn’st  sweet  into  bitter.  A kind 
word  to  the  brother  of  my  gossip  Jeanne  ” — 

“ Ah,  that ’s  not  all,  nor  the  worst.  But  there,  I ’ll 
fetch  thee  some  water  from  the  spring.”  And  seizing 
the  bucket,  the  young  man  went  hastily  out,  leaving 
Priscilla  staring  at  the  folded  letter  upon  the  table, 
while  she  half  murmured,  — 

“ Handsome  Jacques  with  his  quick  wit  and  gentle 
breeding,  and  our  brave  Captain,  the  pink  of  knightly 
chivalry,  and  — John ! ” — 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  TREATY. 

Priscilla’s  prophecy  proved  a true  one,  for  hardly 
were  the  one-and-twenty  men  of  the  colony  assembled 
around  the  table  in  the  Common  house  to  hold  a final 
Council  upon  their  new  orders,  than  young  Cooke  came 
rapping  at  the  door  to  announce  that  a large  body  of 
Indians  had  appeared  on  Watson’s  Hill,  and  seemed 
advancing  on  the  village.  The  Council  once  more  was 
hastily  broken  up,  Carver  only  pausing  to  say  with  a 
glance  around  the  circle,  — 

“ It  is  clearly  understood  that  Captain  Standish  is  in 
full  control  of  all  military  proceedings  in  this  commu- 
nity, and  we  are  all  bound  to  follow  his  orders  without 
cavil  or  delay.” 

“Ay,”  responded  a score  of  deep  - throated  voices 
lacking  that  of  Myles  himself,  who  said,  — 

“ The  governor’s  authority  is  above  that  of  the  com- 
mandant unless  martial  law  be  proclaimed,  and  I shall 
be  the  first  man  to  submit  to  it.” 

“ ‘ When  gentlefolks  meets,  compliments  passes,’  ” 
muttered  Billington  with  a sneer,  while  Edward  Dotey 
and  Edward  Lister,  nominally  servants  to  Stephen  Hop- 
kins, but  already  ruffling  with  the  best,  tittered  and 
nudged  each  other  as  they  followed  their  betters  out  of 
the  house. 

Now  Dame  Nature  in  compounding  a leader  does  not 
often  omit  to  furnish  him  with  five  extra-keen  senses,  as 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  TREATY . 


185 


well  as  a certain  sixth  sense  called  intuition,  quickwitted- 
ness, or,  if  you  please,  instinct ; and  Standish,  born  for 
a leader,  was  fully  furnished  forth  with  all  six  of  these 
videttes,  and  seldom  failed  to  see,  hear,  and  understand 
all  that  went  on  in  his  vicinity.  So  did  he  now,  and 
although  his  stern  visage  showed  no  shadow  of  change, 
he  inwardly  made  the  comment,  — 

“ Hopkins's  varlets,  eh  ? Like  master,  like  man. 
And  Billington  — wait  a bit,  Master  Poacher ! ” 

“ Ah,  here  is  our  friend  Samoset  coming  up  the  hill, 
and  another  with  him,”  remarked  Bradford  as  the  little 
group  of  authorities  paused  at  the  head  of  the  path  lead- 
ing to  the  spring  and  to  Watson’s  Hill. 

“ Tisquantum,  I ’ll  be  bound.  He  looks  to  have  a cer- 
tain veneer  of  civilization  over  his  savagery,”  remarked 
Winslow,  and  in  another  minute  the  two  savages  arrived 
within  speaking  distance,  and  the  stranger  tapping  his 
breast  grandiloquently  exclaimed,  — 

“ This  is  Tisquantum,  friend  of  Englishmen.” 

“ Tisquantum  is  welcome,  and  so  is  Samoset,”  replied 
Carver  gravely.  “ Have  they  brought  furs  to  truck  for 
the  white  men’s  goods  ? ” 

But  hereupon  Squanto,  as  Tisquantum  (He-who-is- 
angry)  was  familiarly  designated,  began  a long  and  very 
flowery  harangue,  from  which  the  Pilgrims  gathered 
that  the  present  was  more  of  a diplomatic  and  interna- 
tional affair  than  a trading  expedition,  and  that  Massa- 
soit,  the  sachem  or  chief  of  all  this  region,  had  come  in 
royal  progress,  attended  by  his  brother  Quadequina  and 
sixty  chosen  warriors,  to  greet  the  white  men,  and  to  set- 
tle upon  what  terms  he  would  admit  them  to  his  territory. 

So  soon  as  the  importance  of  this  embassage  was  made 
plain,  the  Pilgrims  prepared  to  meet  the  occasion  with 


186 


STAN  DISH  OF  STANDISH. 


suitable  formalities,  and  while  Samoset  and  Squanto 
refreshed  themselves  in  Stephen  Hopkins’s  house, 
Standish  hastened  to  put  his  entire  command  under 
arms,  excepting  the  elder,  who  constituted  the  reserved 
force  only  to  be  called  out  in  great  emergencies.  The 
military  band,  composed  of  four  of  the  well-grown  lads 
of  the  colony,  Giles  Hopkins,  Bartholomew  Allerton, 
John  Crakstone,  and  John  Cooke,  was  also  called  out  and 
equipped  with  its  two  drums,  a trumpet,  and  a fife, 
while  a house  just  roofed  in  and  not  yet  portioned  into 
rooms, was  hastily  prepared  as  an  audience  chamber  by 
clearing  it  of  litter,  and  spreading  at  the  upper  end 
a large  green  rug  belonging  to  Edward  Winslow,  and 
various  cushions  and  mats,  while  a high-backed  settle  in 
the  place  of  honor  covered  with  some  scarlet  broadcloth 
cloaks  stood  ready  to  receive  the  king  and  the  governor 
in  equal  honor.  Everything  being  thus  in  readiness, 
Samoset  and  Squanto  were  dispatched  with  a courteous 
message  to  the  king  as  the  Pilgrims  chose  to  translate 
the  Indian  term  of  sachem,  inviting  him  to  a conference, 
but  the  envoys,  soon  returning,  brought  an  intricate 
greeting,  from  which  Winslow  the  diplomatist  at  last 
evolved  the  meaning  that  Massasoit  declined  to  trust 
himself  among  the  white  men  without  adequate  hostages 
for  his  safety,  and  desired  that  one  of  the  principal  of 
the  strangers  should  come  to  him  while  Samoset  and 
Squanto  remained  in  the  village. 

“ Zounds  ! And  does  the  barbarian  fancy  that  two  of 
his  naked  salvages  count  as  one  of  our  meanest,  not  to 
say  our  principal  men ! ” exclaimed  Standish  angrily, 
but  Winslow  interposed,  — 

“ If  the  governor  and  the  brethren  consider  me  as  a 
fit  man  to  answer  the  demand  I will  go  and  convey 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  TREATY. 


187 


what  message  is  decided  upon  to  this  potentate,  and  if 
he  accepts  me  will  remain  as  hostage  while  he  visits  the 
settlement.,, 

“ Nay,  Winslow,  I claim  the  post  of  danger,  if 
danger  there  be.  It  is  the  right  of  mine  office,”  ex- 
claimed Standish. 

“ Not  so,  Captain  ; thy  duty  is  to  do  us  right  in  a 
quarrel,  mine  to  keep  us  out  of  a quarrel.  Each  man  to 
his  own  work,  say  you  not  so  Governor  ? ” 

“ Master  Winslow  is  right,  Captain  Standish,  and 
furthermore  we  need  your  protection  here,  should  an 
attack  be  made  upon  the  village.” 

“ I submit,  and  my  good  will  go  with  thee,  Master 
Ambassador,”  replied  Standish  cordially  ; “ but  be  sure 
if  thy  skill  at  keeping  the  peace  fails  of  saving  thy 
scalp,  thou  shalt  have  a royal  guard  of  salvages  to  es- 
cort thee  whither  thou  wilt  go.” 

“ Gramercy  for  thy  courtesy  good  my  Valiant,”  re- 
plied Winslow  in  the  same  tone.  “ But  Idiope  my  wit 
shall  avail  to  save  my  scalp.” 

And  a few  moments  later  the  courtly  Winslow,  armed 
cap-a-pie  and  carrying  a haversack  of  gifts  at  his  back, 
strode  down  the  hill,  and  across  the  brook  to  a point 
where  a knot  of  dusky  warriors  awaited  him,  and  with 
them  passed  out  of  sight,  leaving  his  comrades  to  an 
hour  of  extreme  solicitude  and  impatience. 

Although  out  of  sight  their  comrade,  however,  was  in 
reality  close  at  hand,  for  Massasoit  had  with  Indian  cun- 
ning selected  a spot  for  the  interview  whence  himself 
unseen  he  could  through  the  branches  of  the  shielding 
shrubbery  overlook  the  approach  from  the  village,  and 
perceive  any  movement  upon  the  side  of  the  other  party 
long  before  it  could  be  made  effectual  Standing  in  the 


188 


STANDISH  OF  STANDTSff. 


middle  of  a little  glade  to  receive  Winslow,  resting 
lightly  upon  the  strung  bow  in  his  right  hand,  Massasoit 
presented  the  ideal  figure  of  an  Indian  chief,  uncor- 
rupted by  the  vulgar  vices  of  civilization.  Lofty  of 
stature  and  of  mien,  his  expression  grave  and  even 
haughty,  his  frame  replete  with  the  easy  strength  of 
vigorous  maturity,  he  looked,  as  Winslow  decided  in 
the  first  quick  glance,  more  worthy  to  be  the  king  of 
red  men  than  James  the  First  of  England  did  to  be  the 
king  of  white  men. 

For  costume  the  Indian  wore  buckskin  leggings, 
highly  ornamented  moccasons,  a belt  with  fringe  several 
inches  long,  and  a curious  skin,  dressed  and  ornamented 
upon  the  inside  with  elaborate  designs,  slung  over  his 
left  shoulder  by  way  of  cloak.  He  also  wore  a neck- 
lace of  white  beads  carved  from  bone,  and  depending 
from  it  at  the  back  of  his  neck  a pouch  from  which  as 
a mark  of  royal  favor  he  occasionally  bestowed  a little 
tobacco  upon  his  followers,  most  of  whom  were  provided 
with  pipes.  In  his  carefully  dressed  hair  the  chief 
wore  three  beautiful  eagle-feathers,  and  his  comely  face 
was  disfigured  by  a broad  stripe  of  dark  red  or  murray- 
colored  paint. 

Removing  his  hat  and  bowing  courteously  before  this 
grave  and  silent  figure,  Winslow  unfastened  his  haver- 
sack, and  produced  two  sheath  knives  and  a copper 
chain  with  a glittering  pendant  which  might  have  been 
of  jewels,  but  really  was  of  glass. 

These  he  laid  at  one  side,  and  at  the  other  a pocket- 
knife  with  a brilliant  earring.  Finally  he  set  by  them- 
selves a parcel  of  biscuit,  a little  pot  of  butter,  and  a 
flask  of  strong  waters.  Having  arranged  all  these  mat- 
ters with  great  deliberation  under  the  gravely  obser- 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  TREATY. 


189 


vant  eyes  of  the  king,  Winslow  stood  upright  and  de* 
manded  who  could  speak  English.  It  proving  that 
nobody  could,  another  delay  ensued  while  a pniese , or 
as  we  might  say  a noble  of  the  king’s  suite,  was  dis- 
patched to  the  village  to  summon  Squanto  and  to  re- 
main as  hostage  in  his  place.  During  the  half  hour  of 
this  exchange,  Massasoit  remained  standing  precisely 
as  Winslow  had  found  him  with  his  warriors  half  hid 
among  the  trees  as  motionless  as  himself.  Winslow 
leaning  against  a great  white  birch  on  the  edge  of  the 
little  glade  rested  his  left  hand  upon  the  hilt  of  his 
sword,  and  setting  the  other  upon  his  hip  imitated  the 
immobility  of  the  savages,  and  in  his  glistening  steel 
cap  and  hauberk,  his  gauntlets  and  greaves,  his  bristling 
moustache  and  steady  outlook,  presented  the  fitting 
counterpart  to  the  savage  grandeur  of  Massasoit.  It 
was  one  of  those  momentary  tableaux  in  which  History 
occasionally  foreshadows  or  defines  her  policy,  and  had 
an  artist  been  privileged  to  study  the  scene  he  should 
have  given  us  a noble  picture  of  this  first  meeting  of  the 
Powers  of  the  Old  World  and  the  New. 

Squanto  at  last  returned,  and  Massasoit  for  the  first 
time  opening  his  lips  said  gravely,  — 

“ Tell  the  white  man  he  is  welcome.” 

“ Thank  your  king  for  his  courtesy,”  replied  Winslow 
bowing  toward  the  chief  ; “ and  tell  him  that  my  sov- 
ereign lord  and  master  King  James  the  First  of  Great 
Britain  salutes  him  by  me,  and  will  be  ready  to  make 
terms  of  peace  and  amity  with  him.”  Waiting  a mo- 
ment for  this  message  to  be  delivered  the  ambassador 
went  on,  — 

“ And  tell  him  furthermore,  that  Governor  Carver, 
the  chief  man  of  our  settlement  is  desirous  of  seeing 


190 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


him,  and  of  arranging  with  him  terms  of  alliance  antf 
of  trade.  Our  desire  is  to  purchase  peltrie  of  every  sort* 
and  we  are  ready  to  pay  for  all  that  we  receive,  but  it 
is  best  that  the  governor  and  the  king  should  arrange 
these  matters  together.  Meantime  the  governor  begs 
your  king’s  acceptance  of  this  little  gift,”  designating 
the  two  knives,  the  copper  chain,  and  the  provisions, 
“ for  his  own  use ; while  to  his  brother  the  Prince  Quade- 
quina  he  offers  this  knife  for  his  pocket,  — nay, — for 
his  girdle,  and  this  jewel  for  his  ear.  And  if  the  king 
will  now  go  to  the  village  to  confer  with  our  governor, 
I,  who  am  not  ranked  the  lowest  among  our  company, 
will  remain  here  as  surety  until  his  return.” 

This  speech  having  been  somewhat  lamely  and  labo- 
riously translated  into  the  vernacular  by  Squanto,  Wins- 
low wiped  his  brow  and  wished  that  it  consisted  with 
his  dignity  to  throw  off  his  armor  and  stretch  himself 
upon  the  pine  needles  at  his  feet,  but  it  evidently  did 
not ; and  in  a moment  or  two  Squanto  delivered  to  him 
the  king’s  reply  that  he  was  very  willing  to  become  an 
ally  of  King  James,  and  that  he  would  go  into  the  vil- 
lage to  meet  the  governor  leaving  Winslow  as  guest  of 
Quadequina,  but  that  first  he  was  ready  to  exchange  for 
some  very  valuable  peltrie  the  armor  and  weapons  now 
worn  by  his  guest,  and  as  he  observed  by  the  other  men 
of  the  colony. 

To  this  proposition  Winslow  returned  a most  decided 
negative,  adding  that  among  his  people  no  soldier  re- 
linquished his  weapons  except  with  his  life,  which  chiv- 
alrous boast  Squanto  after  a moment’s  consideration 
translated,  — 

“White  man  says  these  things  to  him  all  one  as 
red  man’s  scalp-lock  to  him,”  and  Massasoit  replied  by 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  TREATY \ 


191 


a guttural  sound  sometimes  rendered  “ Hugh ! ” al- 
though no  letters  can  express  it,  and  its  intent  is  to 
convey  comprehension,  approbation,  contempt,  or  as- 
sent, according  to  the  intonation.  In  the  present  in- 
stance it  conveyed  approbation  mingled  with  disappoint- 
ment, and  Massasoit  drawing  forward  his  tobacco  pouch 
filled  his  pipe,  lighted  it  with  a sort  of  slow  match  made 
of  bark,  and  having  drawn  two  or  three  whiffs  passed  it 
to  Winslow  who  gravely  accepted  it.  Next  the  chief 
tasting  the  dainties  offered  him  by  one  of  his  officers 
distributed  the  remainder  among  his  followers,  except- 
ing the  flask  of  gin,  which  having  cautiously  tried  he 
laid  aside,  evidently  not  understanding  it,  and  unwilling 
to  offend  the  donor  by  showing  his  distaste  for  it.  And 
here  let  it  be  said  that  Massasoit,  although  he  learned  to 
drink  the  “ fire-water  ” of  the  white  men,  never  became 
its  victim  like  so  many  of  his  brethren. 

These  ceremonies  over,  Winslow,  already  a little  un- 
easy lest  Stan  dish  and  his  musketeers  should  come  to 
seek  him  and  disturb  the  harmony  he  was  endeavoring 
to  establish  between  this  dusky  potentate  and  his  own 
people,  suggested  to  Squanto  that  the  governor  would 
be  growing  impatient  to  receive  his  guest,  and  that  the 
day  was  getting  on. 

This  hint  the  interpreter  conveyed  in  his  own  fashion 
to  the  king,  who  simply  drawing  his  puma  robe  a little 
farther  forward,  muttered  a word  to  Quadequina  who 
stood  beside  him,  and  moved  toward  the  village  followed 
by  about  twenty  warriors. 

Winslow,  somewhat  startled  by  the  suddenness  of  this 
departure  would  have  followed  at  least  for  a few  steps, 
but  Quadequina,  a younger  and  handsomer  copy  of  his 
brother,  stopped  him  by  a single  finger  laid  upon  his 


192 


STANDISff  OF  STANDISH. 


breast,  and  a few  guttural  sounds  which  Squanto  paused 
to  interpret  as  a direction  that  the  white  man  should  re- 
main where  he  was  until  the  return  of  the  sachem. 

“ Certainly.  It  is  as  a hostage  that  I am  here.  I 
would  but  move  to  a spot  whence  I may  see  the  progress 
of  his  majesty  and  his  greeting.  Tell  the  prince  that 
he  has  my  parole  not  to  escape.” 

But  neither  the  words  nor  the  spirit  of  this  chivalrous 
utterance  were  familiar  to  Squanto,  across  whose  red  and 
yellow  and  oily  countenance  a gleam  of  humor  shot  and 
was  gone,  while  he  gravely  reported  to  Quadequina,  — 

“ The  white  man  does  hut  place  himself  to  see  the 
head  men  of  his  village  fall  to  the  ground  before  Mas- 
sasoit and  his  sachems.  He  trembles  before  Quadequina 
and  entreats  his  kindness.” 

“ Hugh  ! I think  thou  liest,  Squanto,”  sententiously 
replied  the  young  sachem.  “ I see  no  trembling  in  this 
warrior’s  face,  nor  do  I believe  his  people  will  fall  down 
before  Massasoit.  Go,  and  see  that  thou  dost  speak 
more  truly  in  the  sachem’s  presence,  or  he  will  hang  thy 
scalp  in  his  wigwam  to-night.” 

Squanto  a little  depressed  at  this  suggestion,  at- 
tempted no  reply,  but  hastened  after  the  chief  who  al- 
ready was  nearing  the  brook,  while  from  the  side  of  the 
town  approached  Stan  dish,  preceded  by  drum  and  fife 
and  followed  by  six  musketeers.  Arriving  first  at  the 
dividing  line  the  captain  halted  his  men,  and  summon- 
ing Squanto  by  name,  bid  him  demand  that  the  twenty 
followers  of  the  king  should  leave  their  bows,  arrows, 
and  tomahawks  where  they  now  stood  and  come  over 
unarmed,  adding  that  the  importance  of  their  hostage 
might  well  cover  this  further  concession.  Massasoit 
after  gazing  for  a moment  into  his  opponent’s  face  con- 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  TREATY.  193 


ceded  the  point  without  parley,  and  at  a sign  from  him 
the  warriors  threw  their  weapons  in  a pile  and  followed 
him  unarmed  through  the  shallow  ford  of  the  brook. 
Standish  meantime  deployed  his  men  into  guard  of 
honor  so  that  the  chief  passed  between  two  lines  of  men 
who  presented  arms,  and  closing  in  behind  him  escorted 
him  with  drum  and  fife  to  the  unfinished  house  where 
he  was  seated  in  state  at  one  end  of  the  settle,  and 
his  followers  upon  the  cushions  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Green  Rug,  which  may  be  said  to  have  distinguished 
this  meeting  as  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  just  a hundred  years 
before,  had  that  of  the  interview  between  Henry  VIII. 
and  Francis  I. 

Hardly  was  the  chief  seated  when  the  sonorous  sounds 
of  the  trumpet,  well  supported  by  the  larger  drum,  re- 
placed the  shriller  notes  of  fife  and  small  drum;  and 
Governor  Carver  in  full  armor  and  wearing  a plumed 
hat,  made  his  appearance,  followed  by  six  more  mus- 
keteers, the  two  guards  exhausting  pretty  nearly  the 
whole  available  force  of  the  Pilgrim  army  at  this  time. 

Massasoit  rose  as  the  governor  approached,  and  when 
Carver  extended  his  hand  laid  his  own  in  it,  each  po- 
tentate saluting  the  other  with  a punctilious  gravity 
much  to  be  admired.  Carver  then  seated  himself  at  the 
other  end  of  the  settle,  and  turning  to  Howland,  who 
stood  as  a sort  of  Aid  at  his  elbow,  he  requested  some 
strong  waters  to  be  brought  that  he  and  the  king  might 
pledge  health  and  amity  to  each  other.  This  request 
having  been  foreseen  was  immediately  complied  with, 
and  a great  silver  loving-cup  with  two  handles  and  filled 
with  a compound  of  Holland  gin,  sugar,  and  spice,  with 
a moderate  amount  of  water,  was  brought  and  presented 
to  the  governor  who  tasted  decorously,  and  then  passed 


194 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


it  to  the  sachem,  who  seizing  both  handles  carried  it  to 
his  mouth  and  drank  with  an  air  of  stern  determination, 
as  one  who  would  not  allow  personal  distaste  to  interfere 
with  public  obligations.  The  cup  was  then  passed  to 
the  other  guests,  and  replenished  more  than  once  until 
all  had  tasted,  Squanto  remarking  to  his  next  neighbor 
as  he  handed  him  the  cup,  — 

“ It  is  the  witch  water  to  make  a man  brave  that  I 
have  told  you  of  drinking  in  the  house  of  Slaney  in  the 
land  of  these  Englishmen.” 

“ Hugh  ! It  is  like  the  sun  in  summer,”  muttered  the 
neighbor  passing  it  on  in  his  turn. 

“ John  Howland  ! ” whispered  a low  voice  at  the  un- 
glazed  window  near  which  the  young  man  stood,  and 
as  he  leaned  hastily  out  he  nearly  bumped  heads  with 
pretty  Elizabeth  Tilley,  who  laughing  said,  — 

“ Nay,  ’tis  no  such  great  alarm,  but  Priscilla  bade 
me  tell  thee  to  keep  an  eye  upon  the  governor’s  loving- 
cup,  lest  some  of  these  wild  men  steal  it.” 

“Nay,  they  have  no  pockets  to  hide  it  in,”  replied 
John  laughing.  “ Still  I will  have  an  eye  to  it,  for  we 
have  none  so  much  silverware  in  the  colony  that  we 
should  be  willing  to  spare  it.” 

The  ceremony  of  welcome  over,  the  business  of  the 
meeting  began,  and  Massasoit,  albeit  a little  incommoded 
by  his  strange  potation,  showed  himself  both  dignified 
and  friendly  in  his  intentions.  Carver  on  his  side  was 
as  honorable  as  he  was  shrewd,  and  in  the  course  of  an 
hour  the  first  American  International  Treaty  was  har- 
moniously concluded,  and  so  much  to  the  advantage  of 
both  sides,  that  not  only  was  it  sacredly  observed  in  the 
beginning,  but  nineteen  years  later,  when  Massasoit  felt 
his  own  days  drawing  to  a close,  he  brought  his  sons, 


AN  INTERNATIONAL  TREATY.  195 


Alexander  and  Philip,  to  Plymouth,  where  this  “ Aun- 
cient  League  and  Confederacy  ” was  formally  renewed 
and  ratified  before  the  court  then  in  session. 

Business  over,  the  sachem  produced  his  pipe,  filled  it, 
smoked  a little,  and  passed  it  to  the  governor,  and  in 
this  manner  it  went  round  the  assembly,  red  men  and 
white  together  each  taking  a few  whiffs,  and  when  it 
was  empty  returning  it  to  Massasoit,  who  seemed  to  be 
custodian  of  the  tribal  stock  of  tobacco. 

Facts  are  stubborn  things  and  History  is  sacred,  and 
the  scene  just  described  is  in  all  its  details  simple  matter 
of  History,  but  is  it  not  a singular  irony  of  fate  that 
we  who  spend  our  lives  in  a crusade  against  strong 
drink  and  tobacco  must,  nevertheless,  despair  of  rival- 
ing the  virtues  of  these  men,  who  began  their  solemn 
covenant  with  the  savages  they  had  come  to  Christian- 
ize, by  giving  them  gin,  and  ended  it  by  accepting  from 
them  tobacco? 

After  the  Council  came  a feast  of  the  simple  dainties 
furnished  by  the  Pilgrim  commissariat,  and  after  that 
an  informal  mingling  of  the  two  companies,  during 
which  the  Indians  examined  and  essayed  to  sound  the 
trumpet  whose  notes  had  so  startled  them,  although 
the  fife  had  seemed  to  them  only  the  older  brother  of 
the  whistles  they  so  often  made  of  willow  twigs. 

Before  Massasoit  took  leave  he  requested  that  Wins- 
low might  remain  while  Quadequina  came  to  view  the 
wonders  of  the  white  man’s  village,  and  this  favor  being 
good-naturedly  conceded,  the  prince,  as  our  Englishmen 
called  him,  soon  arrived  with  a fresh  troop  of  followers, 
all  of  whom  expected  and  received  both  meat,  drink, 
and  attention.  But  as  the  sun  was  setting  Winslow 
appeared  on  the  other  side  of  the  brook,  and  the  savages 


196 


STANDISII  OF  ST  AN  DISH, 


were  hastily  dismissed,  except  Squanto  and  Samoset, 
both  of  whom  insisted  upon  staying,  not  only  for  the 
night,  but  declared  that  they  were  ready  to  leave  their 
own  people  and  remain  with  the  white  men,  whose  way 
of  life  they  so  much  approved,  and  to  whom  they  could 
be  of  much  use  in  many  ways.  Squanto  in  especial 
pleaded  that  this  place  was  his  own  home,  and  that  he 
had  only  left  it  for  the  village  of  the  Nausets  whence 
Hunt  had  stolen  him,  because  all  his  people  were  dead 
of  the  plague,  and  he  was  afraid  of  their  ghosts.  His 
wigwam  had  once  stood  as  he  declared  at  the  head  of 
the  King’s  Highway,  and  the  Town  Brook  was  his  stew- 
pond  for  the  fish  on  which  he  mostly  fed.  Altogether 
it  was  quite  evident  that  Squanto  was  rather  the  host 
than  the  guest  of  the  Pilgrims,  and  as  such  they  with 
grave  jest  and  solemn  fun  consented  to  accept  him.  As 
for  Samoset,  he  already  had  helped  himself  to  the  free- 
dom of  the  town,  and  these  two,  with  Hobomok,  the 
especial  retainer  of  Standish,  remained  the  faithful  and 
useful  friends  of  the  white  men  until  death  divided  them. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE  LAST  LINK  BROKEN. 

“Ho  Jack  ! Where ’s  thy  master  ? ” 

“ In  heaven,  Master  Jones,  or  mayhap  thou  meanest 
King  James,  who  by  last  accounts  was  in  London.” 

“ I crave  thy  pardon,  worshipful  Master  Alden ! ” 
and  the  shipmaster  bowed  in  ludicrous  parody  of  rev- 
erence. “ I would  fain  know  where  thy  servant  Carver, 
and  thine  other  retainers,  Winslow,  and  Standish,  and 
Allerton,  and  the  dominie  may  be.” 

“ ’T  is  a large  question,  Master  Jones,  for  I do  not 
keep  them  in  my  pocket  as  a general  thing,  and  they 
are  just  now  about  their  own  business.  Might  I ask 
thine  ? ” 

“ Were  I not  in  such  haste ’t  would  be  to  cudgel  some 
manners  into  thy  big  carcase,  Master  Insolent;  but 
come  now,  pry  thee  be  a good  lad  and  bring  me  to  the 
governor,  the  captain,  and  the  elder,  for  time  and  tide 
are  pressing,  and  I would  fain  be  gone.” 

“ In  that  direction  our  fancies  pull  together  rarely, 
and  if  thou  It  find  a seat  in  the  Common  house  I ’ll  see 
if  I can  come  upon  the  Fathers.” 

With  an  inarticulate  growl  the  master  of  the  May- 
flower did  as  he  was  bid,  and  by  the  time  goodwife  Bil- 
lington  had  cleared  and  wiped  the  benches  and  table, 
the  men  he  had  requested  to  see,  along  with  Winslow, 
Allerton,  Bradford,  and  Doctor  Fuller,  came  in  together, 
for  the  hour  was  just  past  noon,  and  the  people  collected 
for  dinner  had  not  yet  dispersed. 


198 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Good-morrow,  Captain  Jones,”  said  Carver  cour- 
teously ; “ John  Alden  tells  me  thou  wouldst  have  speech 
of  all  of  us  together.” 

“ Yes,  Master  Governor,  and  glad  am  I that  peevish 
boy  did  my  errand  so  largely,  for  what  I have  to  say 
concerns  every  man,  ay  and  woman  and  child,  in  your 
settlement.” 

“ In  truth ! And  what  may  it  be,  Master  Jones  ? Sit 
you  down,  and  goodwife  Biliington  set  on  some  beer  for 
our  guest.” 

“ Well  thought  on,  and  I ’ll  not  forget  to  send  you 
another  can  or  so  before  I sail.” 

“ Is  the  sailing  day  fixed  as  yet  ? ” 

“ To-morrow’s  flood  will  see  me  off,  wind  and  weather 
permitting.” 

“ And  God  willing,”  sternly  interposed  the  elder ; but 
Jones  fixing  his  twinkling  eyes  upon  Brewster’s  face 
over  the  edge  of  the  pewter  pot  covering  the  lower  half 
of  his  face  answered  scoffingly  as  he  set  the  flagon 
down,  — 

“If  as  you  say  God  guides  the  wind  and  weather, 
reverend  sir,  fair  weather  speaks  His  willingness  for  me 
to  sail,  doth  it  not  ? ” 

“ Sith  thy  time  is  so  short,  Jones,  mayhap  thou  ’It  spare 
it,  and  tell  thine  errand  at  once,”  interposed  Standish 
sharply,  and  Jones  turned  upon  him  with  a leer. 

“ So  cock-a-hoop  still,  my  little  Captain  ! Hard  work 
and  starving  do  not  cool  thy  temper,  do  they  ? But 
hold,  man,  hold.  ’T  is  indeed  true  that  I am  scant  for 
time  and  mine  errand  is  just  this : Ye  have  been  good 
friends  and  true  to  me  when  I was  in  need,  with  my  men 
half  down  and  half  ready  to  mutiny,  and  your  women 
have  well-nigh  brought  me  to  believe  in  saints  and  angels 


THE  LAST  LINK  BROKEN. 


199 


and  such  like  gear,  and  so  I am  come  to  offer  such  of 
you  as  will  take  it,  a free  passage  home,  if  the  men  will 
help  to  handle  the  ship  and  the  women  cook,  and  nurse 
such  as  may  be  ailing.  Or  if  you  choose  to  give  up  the 
emprize  and  load  in  your  stuff  and  yourselves  as  ye 
were  before,  I ’ll  take  the  stuff  for  passage  money  and 
trust  Master  Carver’s  word  for  the  rest.” 

The  Pilgrims  paused  on  their  reply,  and  man  looked 
at  man,  each  reading  his  own  thought  in  the  other’s 
eyes.  Then  Carver  spoke  in  grave  deliberateness,  — 

“ Brethren,  ye  have  heard  Master  Jones’s  proffer,  and 
I doubt  not  ye  agree  with  me  that  it  is  kindly  and  gen- 
erously spoken  and  meant.  What  say  ye  to  it  man  by 
man  ? Elder  Brewster  ? ” 

“ I say,  Cursed  be  he  who  having  put  his  hand  to  the 
plough  turneth  back.” 

“ And  Master  Allerton  ? ” 

“ I will  abide  the  decision  of  the  rest.” 

“ And  Master  Winslow  ? ” 

“ I and  mine  remain  here.” 

“ And  thou,  Captain  Standish  ? ” 

“Our  trumpeter  has  not  been  taught  to  sound  the 
retreat.” 

“ And  Bradford  ? ” 

“ I fain  would  stay  here.” 

“ And  thou,  Doctor  ? ” 

“ I’  faith  I see  better  hope  of  practice  here  than  in 
the  old  countries.  I ’ll  stay.” 

“ And  I have  come  here  to  live  and  to  die,”  said 
Carver  in  conclusion.  “ So  you  see  good  Master  Jones, 
that  while  kindly  grateful  for  your  offer  and  your 
heartiness,  we  cannot  accept  the  first,  but  will  requite 
the  last  with  equal  good  will.” 


200 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Ay,  I want  your  good  will,  and  perhaps  you  ’ll 
give  me  a prayer  or  two  just  for  luck,  dominie  ? ” 

“ Surely  we  will  pray  for  thee,  Master  Jones,”  re- 
plied Brewster  with  fine  reticence  of  tone. 

“ But  before  we  say  more,  brethren,”  resumed  the 
governor,  “ we  must  not  forget  that,  as  the  master  hath 
said,  this  question  concerns  every  man,  woman,  and 
child  in  the  colony ; and  while  we  would  not  send  un- 
protected women  or  children  upon  a long  voyage  with 
such  a crew  as  man  the  Mayflower,”  — 

“Nay,  they’re  not  psalm  singers,”  muttered  Jones 
half  exultant  half  ashamed, 

— “ every  man  in  the  company  has  a right  to  decide 
for  himself  and  those  belonging  to  him,”  calmly  con- 
cluded the  governor,  “ and  I will  ask  our  captain,  as 
equal  in  authority  to  myself,  to  bid  the  attendance  of 
every  man  over  twenty  years  old  in  the  company,  here 
at  once.” 

“ It  shall  be  done,  Governor,”  replied  Standish  rising, 
and  ten  minutes  later  a dozen  or  so  more  of  men  com- 
prising all  that  were  left  alive  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers 
crowded  into  the  Common  house  and  stood  attentive 
while  Carver  briefly  but  distinctly  conveyed  to  them 
Master  Jones’s  offer. 

“ Ye  understand,  brethren,”  said  he  in  conclusion, 
“that  any  one  of  you, or  all  of  you  are  free  to  accept 
this  offer  without  reproach.  We  seven  men,  to  whom  the 
message  first  was  conveyed,  have  for  ourselves  refused 
it,  but  our  will  is  not  binding  upon  you  or  any  of  you. 
Master  Hopkins,  Master  Warren,  Cooke,  Soule,  Eaton, 
Howland,  Alden,  Gilbert  Winslow,  Browne,  Dotey,  and 
Lister,  Billington,  Goodman,  Gardner,  I call  upon 
each  of  you  to  answer  in  turn,  will  you  and  those 


THE  LAST  LINK  BROKEN. 


201 


belonging  to  you  return  to  England  in  the  Mayflower, 
or  will  you  abide  here  and  trust  in  God  to  sustain  us 
in  the  undertaking  we  have  entered  upon  in  His  name. 
Master  Warren  and  Master  Hopkins  will  you  declare 
your  wishes  ? ” 

44  I have  no  desire  but  to  stay,  and  I have  writ  to  my 
wife  to  come  to  me  and  bring  our  five  daughters/’  said 
Warren  without  hesitation,  and  Hopkins  gruffly  added 
his  sentence,  — 

“ I am  no  idle  maid  with  a yea-say  and  a nay-say.  I 
am  here  with  all  belonging  to  me,  and  here  I abide.” 

And  so  in  effect  said  every  man  there,  each  gently 
questioned  by  Carver,  and  each  speaking  his  mind  with- 
out fear  or  force,  until  at  the  end  the  governor  turned 
to  the  grim  old  sea-dog  who  stood  looking  incredulously 
on,  and  with  a cheek  tinged  by  honorable  pride  de- 
clared, — 

44  We  thank  you,  friend,  for  your  kindly  invitation  to 
take  passage  with  you  for  our  old  home,  but  not  one 
among  us  will  give  up  the  hope  of  our  new  home.  Not 
one  having  set  hand  to  the  plough  will  turn  back ! ” 

44  Not  one  ? ” asked  the  master  looking  slowly 
around. 

44 Not  one,”  replied  the  elder  exultantly;  and  like 
the  breaking  of  a great  wave  upon  the  Rock  a score  of 
deep-throated  voices  echoed  back  the  boast,  — 

44  NOT  ONE.” 

The  next  morning  broke  clear  and  lovely,  and  with 
the  sun  rose  a southwest  wind,  best  of  all  winds  for 
those  who  would  extricate  themselves  from  the  some- 
what tyrannous  triple  embrace  of  Plymouth  Beach, 
The  Gurnet,  and  Manomet.  Directly  after  breakfast  the 
Pilgrims’  pinnace  went  out  manned  by  half  the  men  of 


202 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


the  colony,  some  carrying  a last  letter,  some  a little  ad- 
ditional package  of  furs  or  curiosities  for  those  at  home, 
some  only  to  say  good-by  and  take  a last  look  at  the 
dingy  quarters  that  had  been  their  home  for  so  many 
months.  Captain  Jones,  hearty  and  hospitable  in  these 
last  hours,  had  provided  what  he  called  a snack,  and 
both  beer  and  strong  waters  were  freely  set  out  upon 
the  cabin  table,  nor  did  even  the  Elder  refuse  to  do  him 
right  in  a parting  glass  of  Nantz. 

“ Had  I known  you  for  such  good  fellows  when  first 
we  joined  company  there  had  never  been  ill-will  be- 
tween us,”  said  the  master  of  the  Mayflower.  “ But  at 
least  we  will  drown  it  now.” 

“ It  is  drowned  deep  as  Pharaoh’s  host  in  the  Red 
Sea,”  responded  Myles  heartily,  and  the  elder  cried 
Amen. 

An  hour  or  so  later,  as  the  pinnace  slowly  beat  back 
to  her  moorings,  a group  of  women  followed  by  some 
stragglers  of  the  other  sex  climbed  the  hill  and  seated 
themselves  about  the  Fort  to  watch  the  departure  of  the 
Mayflower.  Priscilla  and  Mary  Chilton  as  usual  were 
close  together,  and  Desire  Minter  seated  herself  beside 
them  saying  wearily,  — 

“ Would  I were  a man ! ” 

“ Thou  a man  my  Desiree ! ” exclaimed  Priscilla 
turning  upon  her  eyes  sparkling  with  fun,  although  a 
auspicious  red  lingered  around  the  lids.  “ Wouldst  woo 
me  for  thy  wife  ? ” 

“ Thou  ’rt  ever  looking  for  every  man  to  woo  thee, 
but  I ’d  have  thee  know  there ’s  one  man,  and  his  house 
liot  so  far  away,  that ’s  as  near  wooing  me  as  thee.” 

“ Oh  cruel,  cruel  Desiree  to  wound  my  fond  hopes  so 
savagely,”  began  Priscilla  ; but  Mary  ever  more  prac- 
tical than  humorous  interrupted  her,  — 


THE  LAST  LINK  BROKEN. 


203 


“ Why  dost  want  to  be  a man,  Desire  ? ” 

“ Because  we  women  were  not  asked  would  we  ac- 
cept Master  Jones’s  hospitality  and  go  home,  and  so  I 
had  no  chance  to  say  ‘ Ay  and  thank  y’  sir  ? 9 99 

“ Would  you  have  so  said  Desiree  ? ” asked  Priscilla 
serious  in  a minute. 

“ Why  sure  I would,”  replied  the  girl  pettishly* 
“ Why  should  any  of  us  want  to  stay  ? There  9 a plenty 
of  hard  work  and  plenty  of  prayers  I grant  you,  and 
when  you  have  said  that  you’ve  said  all.  No  decent 
housen,  no  butcher’s  meat,  or  milk,  or  garden  stuff,  or 
so  much  as  a huckster’s  shop  where  one  might  cheapen 
a ribbon  or  a stay-lace  — what  is  there  here  to  live 
for  ? ” 

“ Naught  for  thee,  my  poor  Desiree,  I ’m  afraid,”  said 
Priscilla  almost  tenderly.  “ And  I wish  thou  couldst  go 
home,  but  a maid  may  not  venture  herself  alone.” 

“ I know  she  may  not,  and  I tried  to  make  my  cousin 
Carver  think  as  I do,  that  so  she  might  persuade  the 
Governor  to  go,  but  wow  ! at  the  first  word  she  fell  upon 
me  with  such  a storm  of  words  ” — 

“ Sweet  Mistress  Carver  storm ! ” cried  the  two  girls 
derisively,  and  Priscilla  added  more  gravely,  — 

“ I can  fancy  what  she  tried  to  make  thee  feel,  De- 
siree ; but  thou  couldst  not  feel  it,  and  mayhap  most 
young  maids  like  us  could  not,  but  thou  seest  Mary  and 
I are  different ; our  fathers  and  our  mothers  came 
hither  with  their  lives  in  their  hands  to  do  a work,  and 
we  came  to  help  them.  Well,  the  lives  were  paid  down 
and  the  work  was  not  done,  so  we  who  remain,  simple 
maids  though  we  be,  are  in  a manner  bound  to  carry  on 
that  work,  and  not  let  them  have  died  quite  in  vain* 
And  their  graves  are  here.” 


204 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Mary  Chilton  bowed  her  head  upon  her  knees,  and 
for  a moment  there  was  a great  silence,  then  Desire 
said  querulously,  — 

“ Well,  but  what  is  there  for  me  to  do  ? ” 

“ Come  home  and  help  me  cook  the  dinner ! ” cried 
Priscilla  jumping  to  her  feet,  while  practical  Mary 
added,  “And  I dare  say  some  man  will  marry  thee, 
Desire,  and  thou  mayest  have  children.” 

“ I ! I ’ll  marry  no  man  here  — save  one  ! ” pro- 
tested Desire  tossing  her  head  and  rising  more  slowly. 

“Save  one!  Now  is  that  happy  he  named  John 
Howland  ? ” asked  a merry  voice  at  her  elbow,  and 
Desire  with  a start  and  a laugh  exclaimed,  — 

“ Fie  on  thee,  John,  to  take  a poor  maid  at  her  word 
so  shortly.” 

“ Thou  shouldst  not  shout  thy  resolves  into  a man’s 
ear  didst  not  thou  want  him  to  hear  them,”  replied 
John  carelessly,  and  forgot  the  idle  words  which  were 
to  bear  an  ill  and  unexpected  crop  for  him  at  no  dis- 
tant date. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


SOWED  AND  REAPED  IN  ONE  DAY. 

“ Bradford  thou  wast  bred  to  the  land  wast  not  ? 99 
demanded  Hopkins  bursting  into  the  house  where  Wil- 
liam Bradford,  ill  and  crippled  with  rheumatism  in  his 
“ huckle-bone ” or  hip-joint,  sat  beside  the  fire  reading 
an  old  Latin  copy  of  the  Georgies. 

6i  Bred  to  the  land  ? Well,  my  forbears  were  husband- 
men, and  the  uncle  who  cared  for  me  as  an  orphan  boy 
was  a yeoman,  but  as  I had  some  estate  and  not  very 
rugged  health,  they  aye  left  me  alone  with  my  books 
in  my  young  days.  But  why  ? 99 

“ Didst  thou  ever  hear  then,  or  didst  thou  ever  read 
in  thy  books,  of  planting  fish  along  with  corn  ? 99 

“ Nay.  Didst  thou  ? ” 

“ That  is  what  I am  coming  at.  A lot  of  the  men 
are  talking  with  this  Squanto  about  the  place  and  time 
and  manner  of  setting  corn.  Naturally  the  poor  brute 
knoweth  somewhat  of  the  place  and  its  customs,  seeing 
that  he  hath  always  lived  here,  and  still  it  irks  me  to 
see  a salvage  giving  lessons  to  his  white  masters.  He 
saith  too  that  corn  is  to  be  planted  when  the  oak  leaves 
are  as  large  as  a mouse’s  ear.  Such  rotten  rubbish  ! ” 

“ But  doth  he  aver  that  his  people  were  used  to  plant 
fish  with  the  corn  ? ” 

“ Ay,  and  he  went  down  to  the  brook  yester  even  and 
set  some  manner  of  snare,  and  this  morning  hath  taken 


206 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


a peck  or  so  of  little  fish,  for  all  the  world  like  a Dutch 
herring  only  bigger,  and  of  these  he  says  two  must  go 
into  every  hill  of  the  corn,  that  is,  this  corn  of  theirs,  for 
of  wheat  or  rye  or  barley  he  knoweth  nothing.” 

“ By  way  of  enrichment,  I suppose.” 

“ Ay,  for  in  his  gibberish  he  saith  that  corn  hath  been 
raised  hereabout  again  and  again,  and  now  the  land  is 
hungry.  Ha,  ha,  man,  fancy  the  salvage  calling  the 
dead  earth  hungry,  as  if  it  were  alive.” 

“ Our  dear  mother  Earth  dead,  sayst  thou ! ” ex- 
claimed Bradford  smiling  dreamily  and  glancing  at  his 
Virgil.  “Nay,  man,  she  is  the  vigorous  fecund  mother 
of  all  outward  life,  and  when  she  dieth,  the  end  of  all 
things  hath  come.” 

“A  pest  on  thy  dreaming  and  thy  bookish  phan- 
tasies ! ” roared  Hopkins  kicking  the  smouldering  log 
upon  the  hearth  until  a river  of  sparks  flowed  up  and 
out  of  the  wide  chimney.  “ Dost  thou  agree  to  putting 
fish  to  decay  amid  the  corn  we  are  to  eat  by  and  by  ? ” 
“We  are  not  to  live  by  what  we  plant,  but  by  what 
we  reap,  friend  Hopkins,”  replied  Bradford  still  smiling 
in  the  inscrutable  fashion  of  a man  who  pursues  his  own 
train  of  thought  far  down  beneath  his  surface  conver- 
sation. 

“ Dost  thou  agree  to  the  herring  ? ” roared  Hopkins 
smiting  the  table  with  his  brawny  fist. 

“ Why  yes,  Hopkins,  if  it  needs  that  I give  my 
sanction.  It  striketh  my  fancy  that  the  man  who  hath 
raised  and  eaten  his  bread  on  this  spot  for  some  thirty 
years  is  like  to  know  better  how  to  do  it  than  we  who 
have  just  come.  But  what  matter  as  to  my  opinion  ? ” 

“ Oh  ay,  I did  not  tell  it  as  I should,  but  the  governor 
sent  me  out  of  the  field  to  ask  thee,  knowing  that  thou 
wast  yeoman  born.” 


SOWED  AND  REAPED  IN  ONE  DAY.  207 


“ Then  I pray  thee  tell  the  Governor  that  in  my  poor 
mind  it  were  well  to  follow  the  native  customs  in  these 
matters  at  least  for  the  first.  I would  that  I could  get 
a-field  and  do  my  share  of  the  work.” 

“ Thou  ’rt  as  well  off  here.  ’T  is  woundy  hot  on  that 
hill-side.  I’ve  known  July  cooler  than  this  April.” 

“ And  still  my  rheumatism  hugs  the  fire,”  said  Brad- 
ford taking  up  the  tongs  and  readjusting  the  scattered 
logs,  while  bustling  Dame  Hopkins  hung  her  dinner-pot 
upon  the  crane  in  the  farthest  corner,  and  began  a clatter 
of  tongue  before  which  her  husband  fled  apace. 

That  night  when  the  men  came  home  from  the  field 
all  spoke  of  the  unusual  and  exhaustive  heat  of  the 
weather,  for  it  was  now  one  of  those  periods  of  unsea- 
sonable sultriness  which  from  time  to  time  afflict  our 
spring  season,  as  on  April  19, 1775,  when  the  wheat  stood 
high  enough  above  ground  to  bend  before  the  breeze, 
and  the  British  soldiers  fell  down  beside  the  road,  over- 
come by  heat  in  their  rapid  flight  from  the  “ embattled 
farmers  ” of  Concord  and  Lexington.  But  the  next 
morning  rose  even  sultrier  and  more  debilitating,  and 
Mistress  Katharine  Carver  following  her  husband  to  the 
door  laid  a hand  upon  his  shoulder  saying,  — 

“Go  not  a-field  to-day,  John.  It  is  even  more  cruelly 
hot  than  yesterday,  and  thou  art  overborne  with  toil  al- 
ready. Stay  with  me,  I pray  thee.” 

“ Nay,  Kate,  I were  indeed  unfit  for  the  leader  of  the 
brethren  could  I send  them  forth  to  labor  that  I counted 
too  heavy  for  myself.  Let  me  go,  sweetheart,  and  if 
thou  wilt,  say  a prayer  that  I faint  not  by  the  way.” 

“ That  will  I truly,  and  yet  ” — 

The  rest  died  on  her  lips  for  he  was  gone,  yet  for  a 
few  minutes  longer  she  stood  watching  the  tall  figure 


208 


STANDISH  OF  STANDI SH. 


as  it  disappeared  up  the  hill  path  and  listening  to  the 
murmur  of  a spinning-wheel  in  Elder  Brewster’s  house, 
fitfully  accompanied  by  a blithe  tune  lilted  now  and 
again  by  the  spinner. 

“ Priscilla  is  early  at  her  work,”  thought  the  dame. 
“ I would  I might  sing  and  spin  like  that ! ” and  with 
a little  sigh  she  leaned  her  head  against  the  door-post 
and  closed  her  eyes ; a sweet,  pale  face,  colorless  and 
pure  as  an  Easter  lily,  and  eyes  whose  blueness  seemed 
to  show  through  the  weary  lids  with  their  deep  golden 
fringe.  A fair  woman,  a lovely  woman,  delicately  bred, 
for  her  father  was  one  of  those  English  bishops  whose 
authority  her  husband  and  his  friends  so  resolutely 
denied,  and  both  she  and  her  sister,  Pastor  Robinson’s 
wife,  had  “ lain  in  the  lilies  and  fed  on  the  roses  of  life  ” 
until  love  led  them  to  ardent  sympathy  with  the  Sepa- 
ratist movement,  and  they  had  wed  with  two  of  its  most 
powerful  leaders,  while  their  brother,  Roger  White, 
became  one  himself. 

“ From  heat  to  heat  the  day  increased,”  and  Katharine 
Carver  lay  faint  and  exhausted  upon  a settle  drawn 
close  beside  the  open  door,  when  a strange  sound  of 
both  assured  and  stumbling  feet  drew  near,  and  as  she 
started  up  it  was  to  meet  John  Howland,  half  leading, 
half  supporting  her  husband,  whose  face,  deeply  flushed, 
lay  upon  the  other’s  shoulder. 

“ Be  not  over  startled,  dear  lady  ! ” exclaimed  How- 
land. “The  governor  findeth  himself  a little  over- 
borne by  the  heat,  and  hath  come  ” — 

“John!  Dear  heart,  what  is  it!  Nay,  try  not  to 
speak ! Here,  good  John  Howland,  help  me  to  lay  him 
upon  the  bed  — there  then,  dear  one  ” — 

“Fret  not  thyself,  Kate,  ’t is  but  a pain  in  my  head  — 


SOWED  AND  REAPED  IN  ONE  DAY.  209 


ah  — ’t  is  shrewd  enough,  but  it  will  pass  — there,  there, 
good  wife,  fret  not  thyself ! ” 

“ John  Howland,  wilt  thou  find  Surgeon  Fuller,  and 
mayhap  Dame  Brewster,  but  no  more.  I will  wring  a 
napkin  out  of  fair  water  and  lay  to  his  head,  for  it  burn- 
eth  like  fire.” 

“Ay,  it  burneth  like  fire,”  muttered  the  sick  man 
wearily  moving  the  poor  head  from  side  to  side,  and 
Katharine  left  alone  dropped  for  one  moment  upon  her 
knees  and  raised  streaming  eyes  and  clasped  hands  to 
Heaven,  then  rose,  and  when  the  Doctor  and  gentle 
Mary  Brewster  entered  she  stood  white  and  calm  at 
her  husband’s  head. 

“ Ay,  ay,  he  hath  sunstroke,”  muttered  the  surgeon, 
laying  a hand  upon  the  patient’s  forehead,  “ and  no  won- 
der, for  it  is  shrewdly  hot  to-day,  and  he  toiling  away 
like  any  Hodge  of  them  all.  I must  let  him  blood. 
Canst  get  me  a basin  and  a bandage,  Mistress  ? ” 

“ I will  fetch  them,  Katharine.  Sit  you  down.”  And 
the  Elder’s  wife  slipped  out  of  the  door  and  back  again 
before  even  impatient  Doctor  Fuller  could  wonder  where 
she  was. 

An  hour  later  Carver  arousing  from  the  stupor  that 
was  growing  upon  him,  asked  to  see  William  Bradford, 
who  at  once  hobbled  in  from  the  neighboring  house, 
although  himself  hardly  able  to  sit  up. 

“It  grieves  me  to  find  thee  in  such  evil  case,  brother,” 
said  he  painfully  seating  himself  beside  the  sick  man’s 
pillow. 

“Thy  sorrows  will  last  longer  than  mine,  Will.  I 
must  set  my  house  in  order  so  far  as  I have  time.  Dost 
mind,  Bradford,  what  I said  to  thee  and  Winslow  and 
Standish,  the  time  I saw  ye  standing  upon  the  great 
rock  in  yon  island  before  we  landed  in  this  place  ? ” 


210 


STAND1SH  OF  STANDISH . 


“ Yes,  dear  friend,  I do  remember.” 

“Well,  ’twas  borne  in  upon  me  then,  that  I was  only 
to  look  upon  the  Promised  Land,  and  then  for  my  sins 
to  die,  and  that  thou  wert  the  Joshua  who  should  con- 
quer our  Canaan  and  make  the  people  to  dwell  safely 
therein.  Thou  shalt  be  their  governor,  Bradford,  and 

— their  servant.” 

“ As  thou  hast  ever  been ! Chief  of  all  because  the 
helper  of  all.” 

“ Send  for  Winslow  and  Standish  and  the  elder.  I 
cannot  long  command  my  senses,  and  fain  would  speak 

— nay,  ’t  was  but  a passing  pang.  Send  for  them,  and 
meanwhile  call  John  Howland  and  Kate,  my  wife.  I 
must  hasten  — hasten  ” — 

Again  the  stupor  crept  over  him,  but  steadily  fighting 
it  off,  and  holding  his  consciousness  in  the  grasp  of  a 
strong  man’s  will,  he  again  opened  his  eyes  as  his  wife, 
so  pale,  so  still,  so  self-controlled,  leaned  over  him  and 
laid  her  cool  fingers  upon  his  brow. 

44  Ay,  sweetheart,  ’t  is  thy  touch.  I could  tell  it  among 
a hundred.  Dear,  wilt  thou  go  home  to  thy  father’s 
house  ? He  ’ll  have  thee,  now  thy  poor  4 Brownist  ’ is 
gone.  Or  wilt  thou  go  to  thy  sister  Robinson  ? She 
will  be  fain  to  have  thee.” 

'<  < Whither  thou  goest  I will  go,’  my  husband.” 

“ Say  you  so,  Dame  ? Ay,  thou  wast  ever  of  a high 
heart,  and  a brave.  Mayhap  our  Lord  will  be  merciful 
to  both  of  us,  — but  His  will  be  done.  Thou  ’It  be  sub- 
missive to  thy  God,  Kate,  as  thou  hast  ever  been  to  thy 
lord?” 

44  Ay,  dear,  my  lord,  I will  try  to  do  thy  bidding  even 
thus  far.” 

44  Ah,  Kate,  Kate,  thqu  hast  never  failed  in  all  our 


SOWED  AND  REAPED  IN  ONE  DAY.  211 

haPPy  wedded  life  — fail  not  now  — promise  — prom- 
ise  ” — 

“ Dear  love,  I promise  to  bow  myself  in  all  loving 
submission  to  whatsoever  our  God  shall  send.” 

“ Ay,  that  is  right,  that  is  well,  that  is  mine  own  noble 
Kate.  And  Howland,  I leave  her  to  thy  care  — be  a 
brother,  a leal  and  true  friend  — thou  knowest  what  that 
word  means — I can  no  more  — my  senses  reel  ” -r- 

“ It  needs  no  more,  dear  master,  dear  friend,  if  I may 
call  my  master  so  ” — 

“ My  friend,”  murmured  Carver. 

“ Then  I do  pledge  my  word  as  a God-fearing  man, 
that  from  this  moment  the  first  care,  the  chiefest  duty 
of  my  life  shall  be  to  serve  and  shield  and  comfort  my 
dear  lady  so  far  as  God  gives  me  power.  I will  be  her 
servant,  her  brother,  her  friend,  in  all  ways,  and  under 
all  comings,  and  so  help  me  God,  as  I shall  keep  this 
my  promise.” 

“ Thou  dost  comfort  my  soul,  even  as  it  enters  upon 
the  valley  of  the  shadow.  Stand  ye  two  aside  and  bring 
in  my  brethren.” 

Howland  quietly  opened  the  door,  and  the  three  who 
had  stood  grouped  against  the  golden  sky  on  that 
December  evening  on  Clarke’s  Island  silently  entered 
the  room  and  stood  around  the  bed,  where  in  the  awful 
hush  that  clings  about  the  last  hour  their  chief  lay  half 
unconscious  and  yet  able  to  rally  his  energies  for  one 
more  mighty  effort. 

“ Brethren,  I go  — God  remaineth  — His  blessing 
be  upon  you,  and  all  His  Israel  here.  — Forgive  my 
shortcomings  — forgive  if  I have  offended  any,  know- 
ing or  unknowing  ” — 

“ Thou  hast  ever  been  our  best  and  dearest  earthly 


212 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


friend  — pardon  thou  us,  dear  saint ! ” murmured  Wins- 
low. 

— “ And  if  ye  will  follow  my  counsel,  make  William 
Bradford  your  Governor  — and  set  aside  all  jealousy, 
all  heart  burning  — Winslow  dost  promise  ? ” 

“ Ay,  friend,  I promise  right  heartily.” 

“ Standish  ? ” 

“ Ay,  Governor.,, 

“ Good-by  — I can  no  more  — Elder,  say  a prayer 
— yet  cease  before  I die  ” — 

And  with  a long,  quivering  sigh  as  of  one  who  re- 
linquishes his  grasp  of  a burden  too  mighty  for  his 
strength,  the  first  Governor  of  Plymouth  Colony  went 
to  render  an  account  of  his  stewardship. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


FUNERAL  - BAKED  MEATS  AND  MARRIAGE  FEASTS. 

“ Methinks  our  governor  should  not  be  buried  with 
as  little  ceremony  as  we  perforce  have  showed  our 
meanest  servant,”  said  Captain  Standish  gloomily  to 
Elder  Brewster  the  evening  of  Carver’s  death.  “ You 
Separatists  despise  the  ministering  of  the  Church,  but 
what  have  ye  set  in  its  place  ? ” 

“ We  clothe  not  the  coffins  of  the  dead  with  the 
filthy  rags  of  Popery,  and  we  pray  not  for  the  souls  of 
them  whom  God  hath  taken  into  His  own  hand,  for  that 
were  of  the  sins  of  presumption  against  which  David 
doth  specially  pray,  but  yet,”  — and  the  Elder’s  face 
softened,  “ I am  of  your  mind,  Captain,  that  we  should 
honor  our  chief  magistrate  in  the  last  service  we  can 
render  him,  and  although  by  his  own  wish  I ceased  to 
pray  for  him  ere  the  last  breath  was  sped,  and  will 
never  again  pray  for  him  or  any  parted  soul,  I well  ap- 
prove of  such  military  honors  as  we  are  able  to  pay  to 
his  memory,  and  I will  carry  my  musket  with  the  rest, 
and  fire  it  as  you  shall  direct.” 

“ Why,  that ’s  more  than  ever  I would  have  looked 
for,  Elder,”  exclaimed  Standish  in  amaze.  “ But  since 
you  so  proffer,  I gladly  accept  your  aid  and  counte- 
nance, and  by  your  leave,  since  as  yet  we  have  no  gov- 
ernor in  place  of  him  who  is  gone,  I will  order  the 
funeral  by  mine  own  ideas.” 


214 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“As  a military  man ? ” 

“ Surely.  I claim  no  spiritual  powers,”  and  with 
a curious  expression  of  content  and  disapproval  upon 
his  face  the  captain  went  away  to  so  arrange  and  order 
his  plan,  that  at  sunrise  on  the  third  day  a guard  of 
twelve  men,  including  the  elder,  presented  themselves 
at  the  house  of  mourning,  and  receiving  the  coffin  upon 
the  crossed  barrels  of  their  muskets  carried  it  along  the 
brow  of  the  hill  to  the  grave  newly  opened  amid  the 
springing  wheat. 

Mistress  Carver  had  made  but  one  request,  and  that 
of  piteous  earnestness,  — 

“ See  that  they  make  his  grave  where  another  may 
be  dug  close  beside,”  pleaded  she,  and  John  Howland 
had  seen  that  it  was  as  she  desired. 

Earth  to  earth  was  reverently  and  silently  laid,  the 
grave  was  covered  in,  and  then,  at  the  captain’s  signal, 
the  twelve  muskets  were  fired  in  relays  of  four,  and 
their  mournful  echo  mingled  with  the  sobbing  dirge  of 
the  waves  breaking  upon  the  Pilgrim  Rock,  while  the 
dense  column  of  smoke  rising  grandly  to  heaven  was 
the  only  monument  then  or  ever  erected  to  John  Carver, 
that  willing  martyr  and  gallant  gentleman  who  had  in- 
deed “ given  his  life  for  the  brethren.” 

Returning  to  the  Common  house  the  Guard  of  Honor 
joined  with  the  rest  of  the  townsmen  in  a Council, 
whereat  they  elected  William  Bradford  to  be  their 
second  Governor,  and  as  he  now  lay  ill  in  his  bed,  Isaac 
Allerton  was  chosen  to  be  his  Assistant  and  mouth- 
piece. 

Bradford,  neither  over  elated  nor  daunted  by  his 
new  dignities,  accepted  the  nomination,  and  with  few 
and  brief  intervals  retained  it  until  his  own  death  some 


FUNERAL  MEATS , MARRIAGE  FEASTS.  215 


four-and-thirty  years  later,  and  nobly  and  faithfully  did 
he  perform  its  duties. 

About  a week  after  Carver’s  funeral  the  new  gov- 
ernor, now  convalescent,  received  a visit  from  Edward 
Winslow,  who  sought  him  with  the  formal  request  that 
he  as  chief  magistrate  of  the  colony  would  perform  the 
marriage  ceremony  between  him  and  Susanna,  widow 
of  William  White. 

For  the  Separatists  during  their  sojourn  in  Holland 
had  accepted  the  creed  of  that  nation  of  traders,  and 
held  with  them  that  marriage  is  merely  a civil  contract, 
requiring  a magistrate  to  secure  the  proper  amount  of 
goods  to  each  party,  and  make  sure  that  neither  de- 
frauded the  other.  As  for  the  sacramental  blessing  of 
the  Church,  said  the  Dutchman  and  the  Separatist,  it 
costs  money  and  bestows  none,  and  priests  are  ever 
dangerous  associates,  so  we  ’ll  none  of  them  or  their 
craft. 

Apart  from  this  view  of  the  matter  however,  the 
civil  authority  was  the  only  one  available  in  this  case, 
since  Pastor  Robinson  had  been  detained  in  Leyden 
^ith  the  rest  of  his  flock,  and  Elder  Brewster  had  no 
authority  except  to  preach. 

“ It  will  be  my  first  essay  at  such  an  office,  Winslow, 
and  I know  not  precisely  how  to  go  about  it,”  replied 
Bradford  smilingly  when  his  friend  had  somewhat  for- 
mally declared  his  errand. 

“ But  you  were  yourself  wed  that  way,”  replied  the 
bridegroom  impatiently.  “ For  me,  my  first  wife  held  to 
her  early  teaching  in  that  particular,  and  would  be  mar- 
ried in  a church  and  by  a minister.” 

“ Yes,  I was  wed  by  a magistrate  in  Amsterdam,” 
replied  Bradford  reluctantly ; “ but  the  old  Dutchman 


216 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


did  so  mumble  and  mouth  his  words  that  I gathered 
not  the  sense  of  half.  Likely  it  is,  however,  Master 
Carver  hath  left  some  Manual  for  such  occasion.  He 
was  warned  or  ever  he  left  England  that  he  was  like  to 
be  our  Governor  for  longer  than  the  voyage.,, 

“ Doubtless,  then,  he  had  some  such  office  - book. 
Shall  I bid  John  Howland  search  for  it  ? ” asked  Wins- 
low. 

“Nay,  the  widow  hath  already  sent  me  a box  of 
papers  and  some  little  books,  which  she  said  should  be 
the  governor’s.  I have  not  yet  searched  them,  but  I 
will  do  so  before  I sleep.  What  day  have  you  set  for 
your  wedding,  Winslow  ? ” 

“ Why,  we  would  not  seem  to  fail  in  respect  to  our 
dear  departed  brother,  and  would  leave  a clear  fort- 
night between  his  funeral  and  our  wedding;  so  an’  it 
please  you  we  will  set  the  marriage  for  Thursday  of 
next  week.” 

“ And  at  what  hour  ? ” 

“ At  even  when  all  may  rest  from  their  labor  it 
seemeth  best.  After  supper  we  will  be  ready.” 

“ Wilt  come  to  me  or  I to  thee  ? ” 

“ The  dame  saith  she  would  fain  be  wed  in  her  new 
home.  It  is  just  finished  to-day,  and  such  gear  as  we 
have  will  be  carried  thither  to-morrow.” 

“ I mind  me  that  Mistress  White  hath  a fair  cradle 
of  her  own,”  suggested  Bradford  dryly. 

“ Ay.  Peregrine  lieth  in  it  now.” 

“ May  it  never  stand  idle.  I will  come  to  thy  new 
house  then  on  Thursday  of  next  week,  after  supper.” 

As  Winslow  departed,  Desire  Minter  met  him  on 
the  threshold,  and  with  a hasty  reverence  asked,  — 

“ Is  the  governor  within,  and  can  I see  him  ? ” 


FUNERAL  MEATS , MARRIAGE  FEASTS . 217 


“ Ay,  lass,  he  is  within,  and  I know  not  why  thou 
shouldst  not  see  him.  Knock  and  enter.” 

And  Bradford  still  languid  from  his  late  illness  raised 
his  head  from  the  back  of  his  chair  with  a patient 
smile  as  the  knock  was  immediately  followed  by  De- 
sire’s broad  and  comely  face. 

“ Can  your  worship  grant  me  a few  moments  if  it 
please  your  honor  ? ” 

“Nay,  Desire,  it  needs  not  so  much  ceremony  to  speak 
to  William  Bradford.  What  wouldst  thou  ? ” 

“ Well,  worshipful  sir,  ’tis  a little  advice.  Your  honor 
sees  that  I am  a poor  lonely  lass,  bereft  now  of  even  my 
cousin  Carver’s  husband  ” — 

“ Nay,  my  girl,  our  late  governor  was  more  than 
i even  my  cousin’s  husband.’  Pay  honor  to  him  rather 
than  to  me.” 

“ Ay,  but  he  is  dead  and  cannot  help  me,  and  thou 
art  alive.” 

“ i And  better  a live  dog  than  a dead  lion,’  ” mur- 
mured Bradford  looking  sorrowfully  at  the  girl  whose 
selfish  cunning  was  not  keen  enough  to  disguise  itself. 
“ Well  ? ” 

“ Why,  I fain  would  know  your  honor’s  judgment 
upon  my  marriage.” 

“ Thou  marry  ! And  who  is  the  man  ? ” 

“ Why,  there  now  is  the  question,  sir  ? Captain  Stan- 
dish  hath  showed  me  that  he  fain  would  ask  me  to  wife, 
did  not  Priscilla  Molines  woo  him  so  desperately  ” — 

“ Peace,  child ! How  dare  one  Christian  woman  speak 
thus  of  another  ! ” 

“ But ’t  is  so,  your  worship  ; ’t  is  so,  indeed,  and  how 
can  I gainsay  it  ? ” whimpered  the  girl.  “ She  as  good 
as  asked  him  when  we  were  sick  together  in  the  hospi- 


218 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


tal,  and  she  wrought  upon  her  father  to  ask  him,  and 
what  could  he  do  between  them,  and  still  he  would 
rather  have  had  me  to  wife,  and  I would  have  not  said 
him  nay.” 

“ Well,  and  what  can  I do  about  it  ? ” 

“ Bid  Priscilla  give  him  up,  your  honor,  and  bid  him 
speak  out  to  me,  and  quickly,  for  else  John  Howland 
will  have  me  to  wife.” 

“ Ah,  and  hath  Howland  also  asked  thee  ? ” 

“ Yes,  your  honor,  he  asked  me  as  the  Mayflower  was 
sailing  out  of  the  harbor,  and  I told  my  cousin  Carver, 
and  she  says  it  will  be  an  ease  to  her  mind  to  leave  me 
with  so  good  a man  to  my  husband,  but  for  me  I had 
rather  have  the  Captain.” 

“ And  thou  callest  upon  me  to  straighten  this  coil,  and 
marry  thee  to  whichever  man  will  have  thee,  eh  ? ” 

“ Yes,  your  honor.” 

“ Thou  ’rt  a simple  lass,  and  knowst  not  half  thou 
sayest.  Go  now,  and  I will  send  for  thee  in  a day  or 
two.  But  see  thou  keep  a quiet  tongue.  Say  not  one 
word  so  much  as  to  the  rushes,  or  thou  shalt  have  no 
husband  at  all.  Mind  that ! ” 

“ Oh,  I ’ll  not  speak,  I ’ll  not  forget,  trust  me  to  do  all 
your  honor’s  bidding,”  cried  the  girl  joyfully,  and  Brad- 
ford gazing  at  her  in  compassionate  wonder  rejoined, — 
u Well,  go  now,  and  remember.  Stay,  send  me  one 
of  the  lads,  no  matter  which.  The  first  one  thou  seest.” 
And  when  Giles  Hopkins  presently  appeared  he  sent 
him  to  crave  the  presence  of  Captain  Standish  when  he 
should  have  finished  his  noon-meat.  The  Captain  came 
at  once,  and  after  a few  friendly  words  the  governor 
calmly  inquired,  — 

“ Dost  wish  to  wed  with  Desire  Minter,  Myles  ? ” 


FUNERAL  MEATS , MARRIAGE  FEASTS.  219 


“ Desire  Minter ! Has  thy  fever  come  back  and 
turned  thy  brain,  Bradford  ? ” 

“ Nay,  but  wilt  thou  wed  with  her  ? ” 

“ Not  if  there  was  no  other  woman  upon  earth.  Dost 
catch  my  meaning,  Will  ? ” 
u Ay,  I fear  me  that  I do.” 

“ Fearest ! Why,  dost  thou  desire  so  monstrous  a 
sacrifice  to  the  common  weal,  as  Winslow  words  it  ? If 
the  wench  must  be  wed  there  are  men  enow  who  are  not 
of  thy  nearest  friends,  Bradford.  And,  besides,  thou 
knowest  I am  to  marry  Priscilla  Molines,  and  now  I 
think  on ’t,  ’t  is  time  to  arrange  it.  I did  but  wait  for 
the  brig  to  be  gone,  but  then  the  governor’s  death  put 
all  thought  of  marriage  gear  out  of  my  head.” 

“ Oh  ay,  I mind  me  now  that  thou  didst  speak  of 
Priscilla.  Hast  ever  spoken  to  her  ? ” 

“ Not  I.  I have  no  skill  in  such  matters,  nor  time, 
nor  thought.  I ’ll  write  her  a cartel,  I mean  a letter  of 
proposals  ” — 

“ But  can  she  read  ? Not  many  of  our  women  are  so 
deeply  learned.” 

“ I know  not,  I hope  not.  The  only  woman  I ever 
cared  to  speak  to  of  love  could  do  no  more  than  sign 
her  name  and ’t  was  enough.” 

“ Well,  then,  settle  it  thine  own  way,  only  let  it  be 
soon,  for  I fain  would  see  thee  with  a home  and  children 
about  thy  hearth,  old  friend.” 

“ Ay,  I suppose  ’t  is  a duty,  — a man  who  hath  given 
all  beside,  may  well  give  his  own  way  into  the  bargain. 
I ’ll  marry  before  your  new  old  love  can  reach  here. 
Governor.” 

“ Nay,  when  thou  sayest  6 Governor,’  I note  that  thou 
art  ill  pleased  with  somewhat,  Myles.  Is  it  with  me  ? ” 


220 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Nay,  Will,  ’t  is  with  thy  words.” 

And  laughing  in  his  own  grim  way  the  Captain  left 
the  house,  and  strode  up  the  hill  to  solace  his  spirit  by 
examining  and  petting  his  big  guns. 

That  same  evening  Bradford  walked  painfully  across 
the  little  space  dividing  Hopkins’s  house  from  that 
where  Katharine  Carver  sat  alone  beside  the  little  fire 
still  comfortable  to  an  invalid,  and  after  some  conversa- 
tion said,  — 

“ Dame,  hast  any  plan  for  marrying  thy  kinswoman 
Desire  Minter  to  any  of  our  young  fellows  ? ” 

“ I am  glad  you  have  spoken  of  it,  Governor  Brad- 
ford,” replied  the  widow  eagerly.  “ For  it  is  a matter 
largely  in  my  thoughts.  I do  not  think  I am  to  tarry 
very  long  behind  my  dear  lord,  — nay,  do  not  speak  of 
that  I beseech  you,  kind  sir,  — but  it  hath  dwelt  pain- 
fully on  my  mind  that  the  poor  silly  maid  would  be  left 
alone,  and  none  so  ill-fitted  to  care  for  herself  have  I 
ever  seen.  But  she  tells  me  that  John  Howland  hath 
spoken  to  her,  and  she  is  not  ill  inclined  to  him.  Would 
not  it  be  approved  of  your  judgment,  Governor  ? ” 

“ Ay,  if  in  truth  both  parties  desire  it,  dame.  Sup- 
pose we  have  Howland  in  before  us  now,  and  ask  him 
his  will  ? Thou  canst  deal  with  the  maid  after.” 

“ He  is  just  without,  cleaving  some  fuel  for  this  fire, 
if  your  excellency  will  please  to  call  him.” 

“ I will,  but  first,  Dame,  let  me  beg  thee,  of  our  old 
friendship,  of  the  love  I bore  thy  husband  and  he  to  me, 
treat  me  not  with  such  cruel  formality.  True  it  is  that 
his  honors  have  fallen  upon  me,  and  that  his  place  know- 
eth  him  no  more  ; and  yet  it  is  his  spirit,  his  counsel,  and 
his  ensample  that  rules  my  poor  actions  at  every  turn. 
Be  not  jealous,  be  not  resentful,  mistress,  though  well  I 


FUNERAL  MEATS , MARRIAGE  FEASTS.  221 


wot  so  loving  and  so  faithful  a heart  as  thine  cannot 
well  escape  such  weakness,  for  ’t  is  part  of  woman’s 
nature.  But  canst  not  be  a little  mindful  of  thine  old 
friend’s  feelings  too,  and  soften  somewhat  of  this  stately 
ceremony  in  speaking  to  him  ? ” 

Yes,  he  loved  thee,  he  loved  thee  well,  and  he  would 
have  chidden  me  ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  weep  not,  Dame  Katharine.  I did  not 
mean  to  grieve  thee  but  only  to  tell  how  I was  grieved  ; 
but  then,  we  men  are  still  too  clumsy  to  meddle  with 
women’s  tender  natures.  Be  what  thou  wilt,  speak  as 
thou  wilt  to  me  dear  Dame,  I am  and  ever  shall  be  thy 
faithful  friend  and  servant.” 

He  went  out  as  he  spoke,  and  when  a few  moments 
later  Howland  and  he  returned  together  the  lady  had 
resumed  her  usual  quietude  of  manner. 

“ Sit  thee  down,  John.  Mistress  Carver  and  I have 
somewhat  to  ask  of  thee.  Art  thou  minded  to  wed  ? ” 

“ Not  while  my  mistress  needeth  my  service.” 

“ Mayhap ’t  will  further  her  comfort,  John.” 

“ Is  it  thy  wish,  Dame  ? ” and  the  young  man  turned 
so  eager  a face  toward  her,  and  spoke  so  brightly,  that 
a smile  stirred  the  widow’s  pale  lips  as  she  replied,  — 

“ ’T  is  plain  enough  that ’t  is  thy  wish,  John,  and  it 
will  wonderfully  content  my  conscience  in  the  matter  of 
bringing  Desire  Minter  away  from  the  home  she  had, 
poor  though  it  then  seemed.” 

“ Desire  Minter ! ” echoed  Howland. 

“ Why  yes,  she  told  me  how  you  spoke  to  her  the  day 
the  Mayflower  sailed,  and  she  modestly  avows  that  she 
is  well  content  to  be  thy  wife.” 

“ But  ” — 

“ What  is  it,  Howland  ? Speak  out,  man,”  interposed 
Bradford  with  authority.  “ Thou  seemest  dazed.” 


222 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Why,  truth  to  tell,  sir,  and  my  dear  Dame,  I thought 
not  of  Desire  as  my  wife  ” — 

“ Didst  thou  not  speak  to  her  of  marriage  ? ” 

“ Surely  not,  — or  — there  was  some  idle  jest  between 
us,  I mind  not  what,  and  I never  thought  on ’t  again.” 

“ But  she  did,  thou  seest,”  said  the  Governor  sternly. 
“ Thou  knowest  how  4 idle  jesting  that  is  not  conven- 
ient’ is  condemned  in  Holy  Writ,  and  now  is  the  say- 
ing proven.  The  maid  believed  thee  in  earnest,  and 
hath  set  her  mind  upon  thee  ” — 

But  of  a sudden  Bradford  remembering  Desire’s 
plainly  expressed  preference  for  the  Captain,  if  he  might 
be  had,  paused  abruptly,  and  Dame  Carver  took  up  the 
word,  — 

“ It  would  much  comfort  my  mind,  John,  if  thou 
wouldst  consent  to  this  thing.  The  maiden’s  future  is 
a fardel  upon  my  shoulders  now,  and  they  are  not  over 
strong.  ’T  is  a good  wench,  John,  if  not  over  brilliant.” 
“ Say  no  more,  dame,  say  no  more.  If  it  will  be  a 
pleasure  and  a comfort  to  thee,  it  is  enough.” 

“ But  hast  thou  any  other  choice,  John?  Wouldst 
thou  have  chosen  Priscilla,  like  thy  friend  Alden  ? ” 
“Nay,  Dame.” 

“ But  thou  hast  something  in  thy  mind,  good  John. 
Tell  it  out,  I pray  thee.” 

“ Well,  then,  to  speak  all  my  mind,  Mistress,  there  is 
no  maid  among  us  so  fair  in  my  eyes,  and  so  sweet,  and 
pure,  and  true,  as  Elizabeth  Tilley,  and  I had  ” — 

“ Why,  she  is  scarce  turned  sixteen,  dear  boy,”  ex- 
claimed the  widow. 

“ I had  thought  to  wait  a year  or  two  for  her,”  fal- 
tered Howland,  but  Bradford  interposed,  — 

“ Nay,  nay,  John,  we  cannot  have  our  sturdy  men 


FUNERAL  MEATS , MARRIAGE  FEASTS.  223 


waiting  for  little  maids  to  grow  up.  There  are  boys 
enow  coming  on  for  them,  and  as  for  thee,  why  man, 
thou  ’rt  five-and-twenty,  art  not  ? ” 

“ Seven-and-twenty,  sir.  But  all  this  is  beside  the 
matter.  If  my  dear  mistress  asks  me  to  marry  Desire 
Minter  as  a comfort  to  her,  I will  do  it  to-day.” 

“I  thank  thee  heartily,  John.”  And  in  the  affection- 
ate glance  and  smile  his  lily-like  dame  turned  upon  him 
Howland  felt  more  than  repaid  for  his  sacrifice. 

“ And  yet,  ” continued  she,  “ I will  not  let  thee  marry 
to-day,  nor  for  a year.  But  if  thou  wilt  call  thyself 
betrothed  to  her,  and  promise  me  on  thy  faith  to  deal 
truly  by  her,  and  at  the  year’s  end  marry  her  if  you  both 
are  still  so  minded,  I will  be  content.  I shall  leave  her 
in  thy  care,  even  as  he  who  is  gone  left  me  in  thy  care, 
and  a good  and  faithful  guardian  hast  thou  been,  dear 
friend.” 

“ I pledged  my  life  to  him  that  I would  do  my  best, 
and  now  I pledge  it  in  your  hands,  my  honored  mis- 
tress and  dear  lady,  that  I will  so  deal  with  this  maid 
as  shall  most  pleasure  you.” 

And  so  John  Howland  and  Desire  Minter  were  for- 
mally betrothed ; and  before  the  month  of  May  was 
gone  the  wheat  upon  the  hill-side  was  again  disturbed 
as  John  Carver’s  wife  came  to  lay  herself  down  to  rest 
close  beside  him  in  sweet  content. 

“ They  tell  of  broken  hearts,”  said  Surgeon  Fuller 
musing  above  that  double  grave ; “ and  were  I asked 
to  name  Dame  Katharine’s  complaint  I know  no  name 
for  it  but  that.” 


CHAPTER  XXL 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOR. 

“ Thou  liest  foully,  Edward  Dotey ! Thou  liest  even 
as  Ananias  and  Sapphira  lied.” 

44  Liest,  thou  son  of  Belial ! ’T  is  thou  that  liest,  and 
art  a cock-a-hoop  braggart  into  the  bargain,  Master 
Edward  Lister ! Tell  me  that  our  master’s  daughter 
gave  thee  that  kerchief  ” — 

44  If  thou  couldst  read,  I ’d  show  thee  4 Constance  Hop- 
kins ’ fairly  wrought  upon  it  by  the  young  mistress’s  own 
hand.” 

44  Then  thou  stolest  it,  and  I will  straight  to  our  mas- 
ter and  tell  him  on ’t ! ” 

44  Hi,  hi,  my  springalds ! what  meaneth  all  this  vapor- 
ing and  noise  ? What ’s  amiss,  Lister  ? ” 

44  It  matters  not  what ’s  amiss  John  Billington.  Pass 
on  and  attend  to  thine  own  affairs.” 

44  Lister ’s  afraid  to  tell  that  he  carrieth  stolen  goods 
in  his  doublet  and  lies  about  them  into  the  bargain,” 
sneered  Edward  Dotey. 

44 1 lie  do  I,  thou  base-born  coward  ! Lie  thou  therep 
then ! ” 

And  Edward  Lister  with  one  generous  buffet  stretched 
his  opponent  upon  the  pile  of  firewood  they  had  been 
hewing  a little  way  from  the  town. 

Billington  who  had  wandered  in  that  direction  with 
his  gun  upon  his  shoulder  looking  for  game,  helped  the 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOR.  225 

fallen  man  to  his  feet  and  officiously  fingered  a bruise 
rising  upon  his  cheek. 

“ Hi ! Hi ! But  here ’s  a coil ! He  ’s  wounded  thee 
sorely,  Dotey ! I ’m  witness  that  he  assaulted  thee,  with 
intent  to  kill  like  enough.  Canst  stand  ? ” 

“ Let  me  go,  let  me  at  him,  leave  go  of  my  arm  John 
Billington  ! I ’ll  soon  show  thee  ” — 

“ Nay  Ned,”  interposed  Lister,  as  Billington  with  a 
malignant  grin  upon  his  face  half  hindered,  half  per- 
mitted Dotey’s  struggles  to  free  himself  from  the  poach- 
er’s sinewy  arms.  “ Nay,  man,  I meant  not  to  draw  e’en 
so  much  blood  as  trickles  down  thy  cheek  ” — 

“ He  meant  to  draw  it  by  the  bucketful  and  not  in 
drops,”  interpreted  Billington.  “ And  now  he  tries  to 
crawl  off.  Take  thy  knife  to  him,  man ; nay,  get  ye 
both  your  swords  and  hack  away  at  each  other  until  we 
see  which  is  the  better  bird.  ’ T is  long  since  I saw  a 
main  ” — 

“ Ay,  we  ’ll  fight  it  out,  Lister,  and  see  which  is  the 
better  man  in  the  matter  you  wot  of.”  And  Dotey,  who 
was  furiously  jealous  lest  his  fellow  retainer  should 
have  made  more  progress  in  the  regard  of  Constance 
Hopkins  than  himself,  nodded  meaningly  toward  him, 
while  Billington  watched  both  with  Mephistophilean 
glee. 

“Agreed,”  replied  Lister  more  coolly.  “ Although  thou 
knowest  private  quarrels  are  forbidden  by  the  Captain.” 
“ Hah ! Thou  ’rt  afraid  of  our  peppery  little  Cap- 
tain ! ” cried  Billington.  “ Some  day  thou  ’It  see  me  take 
him  between  thumb  and  finger  and  crack  him  like  a 
flea  if  he  m^lls  too  much  with  me.” 

“ I heard  thee  flout  at  his  command  t’  other  day,  and 
I heard  him  tell  thee  the  next  time  thou  didst  so  let 


226 


ST  AN  DISH  OF  STANDISH 


loose  thy  tongue,  he  ’d  take  order  with  thee,”  exclaimed 
Lister  hotly,  and  Billington  snapping  his  fingers  con- 
temptuously retorted,  — 

“ ’T  is  no  use,  Dotey.  Lister ’s  afraid  of  thee  and  will 
not  fight.  ’Tis  a good  boy,  but  not  over-brave.” 

“ Stay  you  here,  you  two,  till  I can  go  and  come,  and 
we  will  see  who  is  the  coward ! ” retorted  Lister  furi- 
ously, and  before  either  could  reply  he  sped  away  in  the 
direction  of  the  village. 

“ ’T  is  like  a bull-fight,”  cried  Billington  with  a coarse 
laugh.  " The  creature  is  hard  to  wake,  but  when  he  hath 
darts  enough  quivering  in  his  hide  he  rouses  up  and 
showeth  rare  sport.  Now  let  us  find  a fair,  smooth 
field  for  our  sword  play.  ’T  is  not  so  easy  in  this  wild 
land.” 

“ I know  not  why  our  captain  should  forbid  the  du- 
ello ; ’t  is  ever  the  way  of  gentles  to  settle  their  disputes 
at  the  point  of  the  sword,”  said  Dotey  musingly. 

“ Ay,  and  in  this  place  we  all  are  gentles,  or  all  sim- 
ples, I know  not  which,”  added  Billington.  “ Certes, 
one  man  should  here  count  as  good  as  another,  and 
?t  is  often  in  my  mind  to  say  so,  and  to  cry,  Down 
with  governors,  and  captains,  and  elders  ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  such  talk  smacks  too  strong  of  treason  to 
suit  my  ear,”  exclaimed  Dotey,  who  was,  after  all,  an 
honest,  well-meaning  young  fellow,  a little  carried  away 
just  now  by  jealousy  and  by  the  intoxicating  air  of  lib- 
erty and  freedom,  but  by  no  means  to  the  extent  of 
joining  or  desiring  a revolt  against  the  appointed  pow- 
ers of  Church  or  State. 

“ Well,  here  is  Lister,  and  with  not  only  swords  but 
daggers  if  I can  see  aright.  Ay,  that ’s  a good  lad, 
that ’s  a brave  lad,  Lister  ! There ’s  no  craven  in  thy 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOR. 


227 


skin,  is  there,  and  I shrewdly  nip  mine  own  tongue  for 
so  calling  thee.  Come  now,  my  merry  men,  let  me  place 
you  fairly,  each  with  his  shoulder  to  the  sun,  each  planted 
firmly  on  sound  footing.  There  then,  that  is  as  well  a3 
may  be,  and  well  enow.  Come,  one,  two,  three,  and  lay 
on!” 

But  careful  as  Lister  had  been  in  securing  and  bring- 
ing away  his  weapons,  he  had  not  escaped  the  scrutiny 
of  two  bright  eyes  hidden  behind  the  curtain  dividing 
the  nook  where  Constance  Hopkins  and  her  sister  Da- 
maris  slept,  from  the  main  room  of  the  dwelling,  and 
no  sooner  had  the  young  man  left  the  house  than  Con- 
stance hastily  followed,  and  running  lightly  up  the  hill 
to  where  the  Captain  with  John  Alden  at  his  side  was 
roofing  in  an  addition  to  his  half-built  house  she  cried,  — 

“ Captain  Standish,  I fear  me  there ’s  mischief  afoot 
with  Edward  Dotey  and  Edward  Lister ! ” 

“ Ay  ? And  what  makes  thee  think  so,  my  lass  ? ” 
asked  Standish  peering  down  from  his  coign  of  vantage. 
“ Where  are  they  ? ” 

“ My  father  sent  them  afield  this  morning  to  rive  and 
pile  firewood,  but  a few  minutes  agone  Edward  Lister 
came  creeping  into  the  house  and  up  to  the  loft  where 
they  two  and  Bartholomew  sleep,  and  I who  was  be- 
low heard  the  clank  of  steel,  and  peeping  saw  that  he 
brought  down  two  swords  and  had  stuck  two  daggers  in 
his  belt  ” — 

“ Aha  ! Swords  and  daggers,  my  young  masters  ! ” 
exclaimed  the  Captain,  hastily  descending  the  ladder 
beside  which  Constance  stood.  “ John,  drop  thy  ham- 
mer and  take  thy  piece ; nay,  take  a good  stick  in  hand, 
and  we  will  soon  bring  these  springalds  to  order. 
Whereaway  are  they,  girl  ? ” 


228 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ That-a-way,  sir ; nay,  see  you  not  Lister’s  cap  bob 
up  and  down  as  he  runneth  behind  yon  bushes  ? ” 

“ Ay,  lass,  thou  hast  a sharp  eye.  Go  home  and  rest 
content  — thou  ’rt  a wise  and  good  child.” 

Ten  minutes  later  the  captain  and  his  follower  plung- 
ing through  the  underwood  fringing  Watson’s  Hill  heard 
the  clash  of  steel  upon  steel  and  a coarse  voice  crying,  — 
“ Well  played,  Dotey  ! Nay,  ’t  is  naught  but  a scratch 
> — don’t  give  over  for  that,  Lister ; up  and  at  him  again, 
boy  ! Get  thy  revenge  on  him  ! ” 

“ That  knave  Billington  ! ” growled  Standish : “ I 
could  have  sworn  he  was  in  it ! Here  you ! Stop  that ! 
Drop  your  blades,  men  ! Drop  them  ! ” 

Lister  and  Dotey,  nothing  loth,  for  both  were 
wounded,  obeyed  the  summons,  and  staggering  back 
from  each  other  stood  leaning  upon  their  swords  and 
panting  desperately,  while  Billington  dexterously  step- 
ping backward  behind  an  elder  bush  made  his  way 
forest-ward  with  a stealthy  footstep,  and  a shrewd  use 
of  cover,  suggestive  of  his  former  calling. 

“ And  now  what  meaneth  this,  ye  young  fools  ! ” 
sternly  demanded  Standish.  “ Are  ye  aping  the  sins 
of  your  betters  and  claiming  the  rights  of  the  duello  ? 
Rights  say  I ! Nay,  ’tis  forbidden  to  any  man  in  this 
colony,  and  ye  know  it  well,  ha  ? ” 

“ Yea,  Captain,  we  knew ’t  was  forbidden,  but  we  had 
a quarrel  ” — 

“ And  why  if  ye  must  fight  did  ye  take  to  deadly 
weapons  ? Have  ye  not  a pair  of  fists  apiece,  or  if  that 
could  not  content  ye,  are  there  not  single-sticks  enow  in 
these  woods  ? I ’ve  a mind  to  take  my  ramrod  in  hand 
and  show  ye  the  virtue  of  a good  stick,  but  I promise 
you  that  if  not  I,  some  other  shall  give  you  a lesson 
you  ’ll  not  forget*  Come,  march  ! ” 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOR.  229 

“ I ’m  shrewdly  slashed  in  the  leg,  Captain,”  expos- 
tulated Dotey  ; “ and  fear  me  I cannot  walk.” 

“ Ay  ? Sit  down,  then,  and  let  me  see.  Thou  ’st  a 
sore  wound  in  thy  leather  breeches,  but  — ay,  there ’s 
a scratch  beneath,  but  naught  to  hinder  your  moving. 
Here,  I ’ll  plaster  it  up  in  a twinkling.” 

And  from  the  pocket  of  his  doublet  the  old  soldier 
produced  a case  containing  some  of  the  most  essential 
requisites  of  surgery,  and  with  a deftness  and  delicacy 
of  touch,  surprising  to  one  who  had  not  seen  him  beside 
a sick-bed,  he  soon  had  the  wound  safe  and  comfortable. 

“ There,  man,  thou  ’rt  fit  to  walk  from  here  to  Cape 
Cod.  Many  a mile  have  I marched  with  a worse  wound 
than  that,  and  no  better  than  a rag  or  at  best  my  belt 
bound  round  it.  Now  you  sirrah ! Hast  a scratch,  too  ? ” 
For  reply  Lister  silently  held  out  a hand  whence  the 
blood  dripped  freely  from  a cut  across  the  palm. 

“ Tried  to  grasp ’t  other  fool’s  dagger  in  thy  naked 
hand,  eh  ? ” coolly  remarked  the  Captain  as  he  cut  a 
strip  of  plaster  to  fit  the  wound.  “ Now  the  next  time 
take  my  counsel  and  catch  it  in  the  leathern  sleeve  of 
thy  jerkin.  Better  wound  a dead  calf  than  a live  one.” 
“ Next  time,  sayst  he ! ” commented  Dotey  in  a mock 
aside  to  his  companion.  “ So  we  were  not  so  far  astray 
this  time.” 

“ Next  time  thou  meetest  a dagger,  I should  have 
said,”  retorted  the  Captain  with  his  grimmest  smile. 
66 1 never  said  ye  were  not  to  fight,  for  I trow  ye  ’ll  have 
chance  enough  at  that  before  I ’m  done  with  ye ; but 
when  a handful  of  men  are  set  as  we  are  to  garrison  a 
little  post  on  the  frontier  of  a savage  country,  for  one  to 
fall  afoul  of  another  and  to  risk  two  lives  out  of  a dozen 
for  some  senseless  feud  of  their  own  is  to  my  mind 


230 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


little  short  of  treason  to  the  government  they ’ve  sworn 
to  defend.  Now  then,  march  ! Alden,  give  Dotey  thy 
arm  to  lean  upon  if  he  needs  it.  Forward  ! ” 

That  night  Dotey  and  Lister  slept  in  two  rooms  under 
guard,  and  the  next  morning  the  freemen  of  the  colony 
were  convened  in  the  Common  house  to  judge  their  case. 
With  them  Billington  was  also  summoned,  although  nei- 
ther Dotey  nor  Lister  had  betrayed  his  complicity. 

Accused  of  deliberate  assault  upon  each  other  with 
deadly  weapons  both  men  humbly  pleaded  guilty  and 
expressed  their  penitence,  but  to  this  Bradford  gravely 
replied,  — 

“ Glad  are  we  to  know  that  ye  are  penitent,  and  re- 
solved upon  amendment,  but  ne’er  the  less  we  cannot 
therefore  omit  some  signal  punishment  both  to  make  a 
serious  impression  upon  your  own  memories,  and  to 
advertise  to  all  other  evil-doers  that  we  bear  not  the 
sword  of  justice  in  vain.  Brethren,  I pray  you  speak 
your  minds.  What  ought  to  be  done  to  these  would-be 
murderers  ? ” 

“ In  the  army  they  would  have  earned  a flogging,” 
remarked  the  captain  sitting  at  the  governor’s  right 
hand. 

“ Perhaps  solitary  confinement  with  fasting  would  sub- 
due the  angry  heat  of  their  blood  most  effectually,”  said 
the  elder  at  Bradford’s  other  side. 

“ Had  we  a pillory  or  a pair  of  stocks  I would  advise 
that  public  disgrace,”  said  Winslow ; and  Allerton  sug- 
gested, — 

“ They  might  be  fined  for  the  benefit  of  the  public 
purse.” 

“ If  the  Governor  will  leave  them  to  me  I ’ll  promise 
to  trounce  them  well,  and  after,  to  set  them  extra  tasks 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOR.  231 

for  a month  or  so,”  offered  Hopkins ; and  Alden  mur- 
mured to  Howland,  — 

“ Allerton  is  treasurer  of  the  public  purse,  and  Hop- 
kins will  profit  by  the  extra  labor,  mark  you ! ” 

“What  is  thy  counsel,  Surgeon  Fuller?”  inquired 
Bradford,  and  the  whimsical  doctor  replied,  — 

“ I once  saw  two  fellows  in  a little  village  of  Sussex 
lying  upon  the  stones  of  the  market-place,  tied  neck  and 
heels,  and  methinks  I never  have  heard  such  ingenious 
profanity  as  those  men  were  yelling  each  at  his  unseen 
comrade.  I asked  the  publican  where  I baited  my  horse 
the  cause  of  so  strange  a spectacle,  and  he  said  this  was 
their  manner  of  disciplining  brawlers  in  the  ale-house. 
They  were  to  lie  there  four-and-twenty  hours  without 
bite  or  sup,  and  so  I left  them.  Methinks  it  were  a 
suitable  discipline  in  this  case,  but  I may  fairly  hope 
the  profanity  of  those  unenlightened  rustics  will  give 
place  with  our  erring  brethren  to  sighs  of  penitence 
and  sorrow.” 

“ What  think  you,  brethren,  of  our  good  surgeon’s 
suggestion  ? ” asked  Bradford,  restraining  the  smile 
tempting  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  “ It  approves  itself 
to  me  as  a fair  sentence.  Will  those  who  are  so  minded 
raise  their  right  hands  ? ” 

The  larger  number  of  right  hands  rose  in  the  air,  and 
the  sentence  was  pronounced  that  so  soon  as  the  doctor 
assured  the  authorities  that  the  wounded  men  would 
take  no  harm  from  the  exposure,  the  duelists,  bound 
neck  and  heels,  should  be  laid  at  the  meeting  of  the 
four  roads,  there  to  remain  four-and-twenty  hours  with- 
out food  or  water,  and  until  that  time  each  was  to  re- 
main locked  in  a separate  chamber. 

“And  now  John  Billington,”  continued  Bradford 


232 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


sternly,  as  the  younger  men  were  removed,  “ how  hast 
thou  to  defend  thyself  from  the  charge  of  blood  guilti- 
ness in  stirring  up  strife  between  these  two  ? ” 

“Nay,  your  worship,  it  was  their  own  quarrel,”  replied 
Billington  hardily.  “ I did  hut  chance  to  pass  and  saw 
them  at  it,  and  so  tarried  a moment  to  see  fair  play.” 

“ And  to  hound  them  on  at  each  other,  as  if  it  were 
a bull-baiting  for  thine  own  amusement,”  interposed 
Standish  in  a contemptuous  tone.  “ Nay,  lie  not  about 
it,  man ! I heard  thee,  and  saw  thee  ! ” 

“ Surely,  Billington,”  resumed  the  governor,  “ thou 
hast  not  so  soon  forgotten  how  thou  wast  convened 
before  us  some  weeks  since,  charged  with  insolence  and 
disobedience  to  our  captain,  and  with  seditious  speech 
anent  the  government.  We  did  then  speak  of  some 
such  punishment  as  this  for  thee,  but  thy  outcry  of  pen- 
itence and  promise  of  amendment,  coupled  with  the 
shame  of  chastising  thee  in  sight  of  thine  own  wife  and 
sons,  was  so  great  that  we  forgave  thee,  the  more  that 
Captain  Standish  passed  over  the  affront  to  himself ; but 
now  we  see  that  the  penitence  was  but  feigned,  and  the 
amendment  a thing  of  naught,  and  much  I fear  me, 
John  Billington,  that  an’  thou  amend  not  thy  ways, 
harsher  discipline  than  we  would  willingly  inflict  will  be 
thy  portion  in  time  to  come.” 

The  governor  spoke  with  more  than  usual  solemnity 
fixing  upon  the  offender  a gaze  severe  yet  pitiful  and 
reluctant,  as  one  who  foresees  for  another  a fate  deserved 
indeed,  and  yet  too  terrible  to  contemplate.  Perhaps 
before  that  astute  and  reflective  mind  there  rose  a vision 
of  the  gallows  nine  years  later  to  be  erected  by  his  own 
order,  whereon  John  Billington,  deliberate  murderer  of 
John  Newcomen,  should  expiate  his  crime  and  open  the 
gloomy  record  of  capital  punishment  in  New  England. 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOR. 


233 


At  the  present  moment,  however,  the  offender  slunk 
away  with  his  reproof,  and  the  meeting  proceeded  to  con- 
sider other  matters,  for,  while  the  new  government  felt 
itself  competent  to  deal  with  matters  of  life  and  death, 
it  also  found  no  matter  too  trifling  for  its  attention. 

Four  days  later  Edward  Dotey  and  Edward  Lister, 
their  wounds  comfortably  healed,  were  brought  out  into 
the  market  place  as  in  fond  reminiscence  of  home  the 
Pilgrims  called  what  is  now  the  Town  Square  of  Plym- 
outh, and  each  offender  was  solemnly  tied  neck  and 
heels  together,  — an  attitude  at  once  ignominious  and 
painful. 

The  governor,  with  Allerton  his  assistant,  the  cap- 
tain, the  elder,  Winslow,  Hopkins,  and  Warren  stood 
formally  arrayed  to  witness  the  execution  of  the  sen- 
tence, which  Billington  was  forced  to  carry  out.  The 
less  important  members  of  the  community  surrounded 
the  scene,  and  from  amid  the  fluctuating  crowd  mur- 
murs of  amaze,  of  pity,  of  approval,  or  the  reverse  be- 
came from  time  to  time  audible. 

“ Nay,  then,  ’t  is  a shame  to  see  Christian  men  so 
served,  and  they  so  scarce  a commodity  in  these  parts,” 
declared  Helen  Billington  to  her  neighbor  Mistress  Hop- 
kins, who  nippingly  replied,  — 

“ Mayhap  we ’ve  mistook  the  men  we ’ve  put  in 
power.” 

“ Ay,”  returned  the  coarser  malcontent.  u They 
passed  by  thy  goodman,  and  put  worse  men  over  his 
head.” 

“ Master  Hopkins  careth  naught  for  such  honors  as 
these  have  to  bestow.  His  name  was  made  or  ever  he 
came  hither,”  replied  Elizabeth  a little  coldly  as  she 
moved  away. 


234 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH . 


“ Glad  am  I to  see  that  thy  goodman  leaveth  the  cord 
as  slack  as  may  be,  Goody  Billington,”  whispered  Lois, 
late  maid  to  Mistress  Carver,  but  now  the  promised 
second  wife  of  Francis  Eaton,  who  stood  beside  her,  and 
overhearing  the  whisper  said  reprovingly,  — 

“ Nay,  wench,  thou  speakest  foolishly.  If  evil-doers 
are  to  go  unwhipt  of  justice  how  long  shall  this  colony 
endure.  See  you  not  that  if  these  roysterers  had  each 
killed  the  other,  there  had  been  two  men  the  less  to 
stand  between  your  silly  throats  and  the  hatchets  of  the 
salvages  ? ” 

u Ay,  there ’s  sound  sense  in  that,  Francis,”  replied 
Lois  yielding  admiringly  to  the  superior  wisdom  of  her 
betrothed,  but  Helen  Billington  nodding  and  blinking, 
muttered  to  her  boy  John,  as  she  leaned  upon  his 
shoulder,  — 

“ Wait  but  till  dark,  when  all  the  wiseacres  are  asleep, 
and  see  if  thy  daddy  sets  not  these  men  free,  ay,  and 
puts  weapons  in  their  hands  like  enough,  to  revenge 
themselves  withal.” 

The  offenders  bound,  and  laid  each  upon  his  side  on 
the  bare  ground,  the  court  withdrew  and  the  crowd  dis- 
persed. But  scarce  an  hour  had  passed  ere  Hopkins 
presented  himself  before  the  governor  and  his  assistant, 
at  work  over  the  colony’s  records,  those  precious  first 
minutes,  now  forever  lost,  and  with  an  elaborately  quiet 
and  restrained  demeanor  said,  — 

“ Master  Bradford,  yon  poor  knaves  of  mine  are  suf- 
fering shrewdly  from  cramps  and  shooting  pains  as  well 
as  from  the  ache  of  their  scarce  healed  wounds.  They 
promise  in  sad  sincerity  to  amend  their  ways,  and  when 
all  is  said,  they  are  good  and  kindly  lads,  and  did  but 
ape  the  fashions  of  their  betters  in  the  Old  World. 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOR. 


235 


May  not  I persuade  your  worship  to  look  over  their 
offense  for  this  time,  and  to  remit  their  pains  and  pen- 
alties as  soon  as  may  be  ? ” 

“ Thou  sayest  they  are  penitent,  good  Master  Hop- 
kins ? ” asked  Bradford  judicially. 

“ Ay,  and  to  my  mind  honestly  so.” 

“We  will  speak  with  them,  Master  Allerton,  and  if 
the  captain  and  the  elder  agree  with  me,  Master  Hop- 
kins, thy  petition  is  granted,  for  indeed  it  is  to  me  more 
pain  to  make  another  suffer  than  to  suffer  myself,  even 
as  a father  feels  the  rod  upon  his  own  heart  the  while 
he  lays  it  on  his  son’s  hack.” 

“And  yet  the  warning  that  to  spare  the  rod  will 
spoil  the  child  applies  to  the  children  of  the  State  as 
well  as  to  the  household,”  remarked  Allerton,  whose 
lively  son  Bartholomew  could  have  testified  to  his 
father’s  strict  obedience  to  Solomon’s  precept. 

The  chiefs  of  the  colony  were  soon  reassembled  about 
the  grotesque  figures  of  the  suffering  duelists,  and  with 
their  approval,  the  governor  having  demanded  and  re- 
ceived ample  professions  of  contrition,  and  promises  of 
amendment,  ordered  Billington  to  release  the  prisoners, 
who  shamefacedly  crept  away  to  their  master’s  house, 
and  thus  ended  the  first  and  for  many  years  the  only 
duel  fought  upon  New  England  soil. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


THE  CAPTAIN’S  PIPE. 

It  was  a lovely  evening  in  June,  and,  the  labors  of 
the  day  being  ended,  while  the  hour  for  nightly  devotion 
had  not  yet  come,  Plymouth  enjoyed  an  hour  of  rest. 

Seven  houses  now  lined  The  Street,  leading  from  the 
Rock  to  the  Fort,  and  of  these  the  highest  on  the  north- 
erly side  was  that  of  Captain  Standish,  built  so  near  to 
the  Fort  indeed,  that  John  Alden,  if  so  idly  minded 
to  amuse  himself,  could  easily  salute  each  gun  of  the 
little  battery  with  a pebble  upon  its  nose.  He  was  in 
fact  thus  occupied  on  this  especial  evening,  while  the 
captain  sitting  upon  a bench  beside  the  cottage  door 
smoked  a pipe  wondrously  carved  from  a block  of 
chalcedony  by  some  “ Ancient  Arrowmaker  ” of  for- 
gotten fame,  and  presented  to  Standish  by  his  admiring 
friend  Hobomok,  who,  having  silently  studied  at  his 
leisure  the  half  dozen  principal  men  among  the  Pil- 
grims, had  settled  upon  Standish  as  most  nearly  repre- 
senting his  ideal  of  combined  courage,  wisdom,  and  en- 
durance, so  that  he  already  was  beginning  to  be  known 
as  “ the  Captain’s  Indian,”  just  as  Squanto  was  espe- 
cially Bradford’s  henchman. 

u ’T  is  a goodly  sight  — a sweet  and  fair  country,” 
said  the  Captain  half  aloud,  and  Alden  just  pausing  to 
note  that  his  last  pebble  had  gone  down  the  throat  of 
the  saker,  turned  to  inquire,  — 


THE  CAPTAIN’S  PIPE . 


237 


“ What  is  it,  master  ? ” 

For  reply  the  captain  took  the  pipe  from  his  mouth, 
and  with  the  stem  pointed  to  Manomet,  where  mile  after 
mile  of  fresh  young  verdure  rose  steeply  against  the 
rosy  eastern  sky,  while  the  sun  sinking  behind  what  was 
to  be  the  Captain’s  Hill  shot  a flood  of  golden  glory 
across  the  placid  bay  cresting  each  little  wave  with  ra- 
diance, and  burying  itself  at  last  among  the  whispering 
foliage  of  the  mount. 

“ Saw  you  ever  a fairer  sight,  lad  ? 99 

“ Nay,  ’t  is  fair  as  the  Hills  of  Beulah  whereof  the 
elder  spake  last  night,”  softly  replied  John. 

“ And  fairer,  for  we  can  see  it  with  our  eyes  of  to- 
day,” replied  the  captain  dryly.  The  younger  man 
glanced  briefly  at  his  master’s  face,  and  failing  to  read 
its  complex  expression,  contented  himself  with  a some- 
what uneasy  smile  as  he  turned  to  gaze  upon  the  scene 
in  thoughtful  silence. 

Standish  noting  with  one  of  his  quick  glances  his  fol- 
lower’s embarrassment,  took  counsel  with  himself,  and 
as  he  quietly  refilled  his  pipe  said,  — 

“ Mark  me  well,  lad,  I mean  not  to  cast  aught  of  dis- 
credit on  the  elder’s  teaching,  nor  to  shake  any  man’s 
faith  in  Beulahs,  or  Canaans,  or  hills  of  Paradise,  for 
doubtless  Holy  Writ  gives  warrant  for  such  forecast- 
ing ; and  surely  approved  masters  of  strategy,  and  war- 
fare both  offensive  and  defensive,  like  Moses,  and 
David,  and  Joshua,  did  not  fight  for  the  guerdon  of  a 
fool’s  bauble,  or  a May-queen’s  garland.  But  yet,  mind 
thee,  John,  there  are  other  great  soldiers  given  us  as 
ensamples  in  that  same  Holy  Writ  who  seemed  to  set 
no  store  upon  the  Beulahs,  and  cared  naught  for  milk 
or  honey ; men  like  Gideon,  and  Samson,  and  Saul,  and 


238 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Joab;  and  still  the  Lord  of  Hosts  led  these  men  forth, 
and  fought  for  them  and  fended  them,  so  long  as  they 
fought  for  themselves  and  were  careful  to  catch  the 
order  and  obey  it.  I know  not,  Jack,  these  matters  are 
too  mighty  for  a poor  soldier  like  me  to  handle  under- 
standing^ ; and  still  somehow  it  seemeth  me  that  this 
same  Lord  of  Hosts  will  know  how  to  deal  mercifully 
even  with  a rough,  war-worn  fellow  like  me,  who  repent- 
eth  him  of  his  sins  and  hath  freely  given  himself  to  do 
battle  in  Christ’s  name  against  all  Heathenesse,  and  to 
stand  forth  with  this  handful  of  saints  against  His  foes 
and  theirs,  and  that,  although  he  cannot  clearly  see  the 
Hills  of  Beulah,  nor  cares  for  such  luscious  cates  as  suit 
some  stomachs.  Dost  catch  my  meaning,  boy  ? ” 

“ Ay,  master,  and  well  do  I wish  my  hope  of  God’s 
favor  were  as  fairly  founded  ” — 

“ Nay  now,  nay  now,  did  not  I this  minute  tell  thee 
that  I care  naught  for  sweets  ? Save  thy  honey  for  some 
maiden’s  lips.  Ah,  and  now  I think  on ’t,  here  is  a quiet 
and  leisure  time  wherein  to  study  out  the  strategy  of 
that  wooing  emprise  I was  telling  thee  of  — nay,  did  I 
tell  thee  ? ” 

“ Wooing  — what  — I — I know  not  fairly,”  stam- 
mered John  Alden,  but  the  captain  still  gazing  upon 
Hither  Manomet,  where  now  the  purple  bloom  of  twi- 
light was  replacing  the  glory  of  the  sunset,  marked  not 
the  pallor  stealing  the  red  from  beneath  the  brown  of 
the  young  fellow’s  «heek,  nor  heard  the  discordant  falter 
of  his  voice. 

“ Ay,”  replied  he  thoughtfully,  — “ my  wooing  of 
Priscilla  Molines,  thou  knowest.  I thought  I spoke  to 
thee  of  it,  but  at  all  odds  the  time  has  now  well  come 
when  I should  address  the  maid.  I ought  indeed  to 


THE  CAPTAIN’S  PIPE . 


239 


have  done  it  long  ago,  and  mayhap  she  will  he  a bit 
peevish  at  the  delay,  for  doubtless  her  father  told  her 
ere  he  died  of  our  compact,  but  there  has  been  no  con- 
venient season,  and  truth  to  tell,  Jack,  I have  no  great 
heart  toward  the  matter  — yon  green  plateau  lies  be- 
twixt me  and  ” — 

And  in  the  sudden  silence  John  Alden’s  gaze  went 
out  over  the  steel  gray  waters,  out  and  out  to  the  far 
horizon  line  where  the  rose  tint  had  faded  from  the  sky 
and  a low  line  of  fog  gathered  slowly  and  sadly. 

“ I ’ll  tell  thee,  boy,”  suddenly  resumed  the  captain 
rising  from  the  bench  and  confronting  his  companion, 
while  lightly  touching  his  breast  with  the  mouthpiece  of 
the  pipe  upon  whose  cold  ashes  John  mechanically  fixed 
his  eyes,  — “ thou  shalt  woo  her  for  me.” 

“I  — I woo  her  — nay,  master,  nay  ” — 

“ And  why  nay,  thou  foolish  boy  ? ’T  will  be  rare 
practice  for  thee  against  some  of  these  lasses  grow  up, 
and  thou  wouldst  fain  go  a-wooing  on  thine  own  account. 
Nay,  then,  can  it  be  that  a young  fellow  who  would 
gayly  go  forth  against  Goliath  of  Gath  were  he  in  these 
parts  is  craven  before  the  bright  eyes  and  nimble  tongue 
of  a little  maid  ? Dost  think  Priscilla  will  box  thine 
ears  ? ” 

“ Nay,  but  ” — 

“ Nay  me  no  buts  and  but  me  no  nays,  for  the  scheme 
tickles  my  fancy  hugely,  and  so  it  shall  be.  Thou  seest, 
Jack,  it  were  more  than  a little  awkward  for  me  to  show 
reason  why  I have  not  spoken  sooner,  and  the  fair  lady’s 
angry  dignity  will  be  appeased  by  seeing  that  I stand  in 
awe  of  her,  and  woo  her  as  princesses  are  wooed,  by 
proxy.  Thou  shalt  be  my  proxy,  Jack,  and  see  thou 
serve  me  not  so  scurvy  a trick  as  — ha,  here  cometh  the 
governor.” 


240 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


And,  in  effect,  Bradford  striding  up  the  hill  with 
all  the  vigor  of  his  one-and-thirty  years  was  already 
so  close  at  hand  as  to  save  John  Alden  the  pain  of  a 
reply. 

“ Good  e’en,  Governor,”  cried  Standish  going  a step 
or  two  to  meet  his  guest. 

“ Good  e’en,  Captain,  — Alden.  There ’s  more 
trouble  toward  about  the  Billingtons.” 

“ What  now  ? ” demanded  the  captain  with  a stern 
brevity  auguring  ill  for  the  frequent  offender. 

“ Nay,  ’t  is  no  willful  offense  this  time,  nor  is  the 
father  to  blame  except  for  not  training  his  boys  better ; 
but  the  son  John  hath  run  away  to  go  to  the  salvages 
his  brother  says,  and  the  mother  saith  he  is  stolen,  and 
whichever  way  it  may  be,  he  has  been  missing  since 
y ester  even  at  bedtime,  and  now  we  have  to  go  and  look 
him  up.” 

“ 6 111  bird  of  an  ill  egg,’  ” growled  Standish.  “ May- 
hap ’t  were  better  not  to  find  him.” 

“ And  yet  we  must,”  replied  Bradford  gently.  “ And 
as  Squanto  reports  that  the  boy  shaped  his  course  for 
Manomet,  my  idea  is  that  it  were  well  for  us  to  take 
our  boat  and  coast  along  the  headland  and  so  on  in  the 
course  we  came  at  first,  observing  the  shore,  and  noting 
such  points  as  may  be  of  use  in  the  future.  Mayhap 
we  shall  come  as  far  as  the  First  Encounter,  and  make 
out  whether  those  salvages  whom  Squanto  calls  the 
Nausets  are  still  so  dangerously  disposed  toward  us.  At 
any  rate  we  will  try  to  discover  our  creditors  for  the 
seed-corn  springing  so  greenly  over  yonder.” 

“ Pity  that  Winslow  hath  gone  to  So  warns  to  visit 
Massasoit,”  remarked  the  captain  dryly.  “We  shall 
miss  his  subtle  wit  in  these  delicate  affairs  of  state.” 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  PIPE . 


241 


“ Yes,  and  if  it  comes  to  blows  we  shall  miss  no  less 
Stephen  Hopkins’s  doughty  arm,”  replied  Bradford. 
“ But  sith  both  are  gone,  we  had  better  leave  the  Elder 
in  charge  of  the  settlement  along  with  Master  Allerton, 
John  Howland,  who  is  a stout  man-at-arms,  John  Alden, 
Gilbert  Winslow,  Dotey,  and  Cooke.” 

“ Seven  men  in  all.” 

“Yes,  and  with  Winslow  and  Hopkins  away,  that 
leaves  ten  of  us  to  go  on  this  expedition,  and  I shall 
take  Lister  lest  he  brawl  with  Dotey,  and  Billington 
not  only  that  he  is  the  boy’s  father,  but  lest  he  raise 
a sedition  in  the  camp.” 

“ Well  thought  on.  I tell  thee  thou  hast  a head-piece 
of  thine  own,  Will,  though  thou  art  so  mild  spoken.” 

Bradford  laughed  with  a glance  of  affectionate  recog- 
nition of  the  soldier’s  compliment,  and  then  the  two 
arranged  the  details  of  the  proposed  expedition,  while 
Alden  standing  straight  and  still  as  a statue  watched  the 
gloom  of  night  blotting  all  the  color  from  sky,  and  sea, 
and  shore,  even  as  the  fog  crept  stealthily  in  swallowing 
all  before  it,  and  a great  dumb  wave  of  sorrow  and  dis- 
may surged  up  from  his  own  heart,  and  swallowed  all 
the  brightness  of  his  life. 

Suddenly  from  the  Town  Square  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  rose  the  sound  of  a drum  not  inartistically  touched, 
and  both  the  governor  and  the  captain  rose  to  their 
feet. 

“ Bart  Allerton  hath  learned  to  use  the  drumsticks  as 
if  he  had  served  with  us  in  Flanders,”  said  the  soldier 
complacently,  as  they  turned  down  the  little  sinuous 
footpath. 

“Yes,”  replied  the  governor  gravely.  “He  does 
credit  to  thy  teaching,  Captain,  and  yet  methinks  there 


242 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


may  be  danger  that  a vain  delight  in  his  own  perform- 
ance may  cause  the  lad,  and  haply  others,  to  forget  that 
this,  for  lack  of  a bell,  is  our  call  to  prayer.  Couldst 
thou  find  it  in  thy  heart,  Myles,  to  direct  that  in  future 
the  drum  shall  sound  but  three  heavy  and  unmodulated 
beats  ? ” 

“Oh  ay,  if  it  will  please  thee  better,  Will.  Didst 
ever  read  of  the  tyrant  Procrustes  ? ” 

“ What  of  him  ? ” 

“ Only  that  he  would  force  all  men  to  fit  to  one  meas- 
ure, though  he  dragged  the  life  out  of  them.  Dost 
fancy  the  God  to  whom  we  shall  presently  pray  is  better 
pleased  with  a dreary  noise  than  with  some  hint  at 
melody?  Alden,  come  on,  lad,  ’t is  time  for  prayers, 
and  thy  woesome  face  suits  the  occasion.  What ’s 
amiss,  lad  ? ” 

“ Naught ’s  amiss,  master,”  replied  the  youth  more 
briefly  than  his  wont,  and  with  a sudden  spring  from 
a projecting  bowlder  he  passed  the  two  elder  men  and 
arrived  first  at  the  Common  house. 

“ That  younker’s  face  and  voice  are  not  so  blithe  as 
might  be.  Hast  been  chiding  him,  Myles  ? ” asked 
Bradford  as  they  followed  down  the  hill. 

“ Nay,”  replied  the  captain.  “ But  like  enough  he ’s 
thwarted  at  missing  the  chance  of  a brush  with  the  red- 
skins to-morrow,  and ’t  is  a pity.” 

“ Nay,  Myles,  look  not  so  pensive  on ’t,”  responded 
the  governor  laughing.  “ There  are  men,  believe  it  if 
you  can,  who  love  the  smell  of  roses  better  than  of  blood. 
To  my  fancy  John  Alden  — but  there,  light  jesting  is 
surely  ill  befitting  the  hour  of  prayer.” 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


“ SPEAK  FOR  YOURSELF,  JOHN  ! ” 

Further  information  gathered  by  Squanto  and 
Hobomok  from  the  Indian  guests  who  were  constantly 
in  and  out  of  the  village  proved  that  John  Billington 
had  wandered  as  far  as  Manomet,  and  that  Canacum, 
the  sachem  of  that  place, had  sent  him  on  with  some  Nauset 
braves  who  were  visiting  him,  as  a present  or  perhaps 
hostage  to  Aspinet,  chief  of  the  Nausets  and  Pamets. 
The  course  of  the  rescuing  party  was  thus  determined, 
and,  apart  from  the  recovery  of  little  Billington,  Brad- 
ford was  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  offering  payment  to 
the  Nausets  for  the  corn  borrowed  from  the  mysterious 
granary  near  the  First  Encounter,  and  also  much  desired 
to  hear  an  explanation  of  the  grave  containing  the  bones 
of  the  French  sailor  and  little  child. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  considerable  satisfaction  that 
he  next  morning  led  his  little  party  to  the  water  side, 
and  embarked  them  just  as  the  sun  rising  joyously  from 
out  the  blue,  blue  sea,  sent  a handful  of  merry  shafts  to 
tip  each  wave  with  glory  and  glance  in  harmless  flame 
from  every  point  of  armor  or  of  weapon  in  the  pinnace, 
as  the  crew  moved  every  man  to  his  appointed  place, 
the  captain  pushing  sturdily  with  an  oar  while  John 
Alden,  half  in,  half  out  the  water,  heaved  mightily  at 
the  bows  hanging  at  the  foot  of  the  Rock. 

“ Once  more ! Now  again  ! There  she  floats  ! ” cried 
the  captain.  “ One  more  shove,  John ! There,  there. 


244 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


enough ! Fare  thee  well,  lad,  and  mind  the  business  I 
bade  thee  take  in  hand  ! ” 

“ Ay,  master,”  replied  the  youth,  but  as  he  stepped 
upon  the  Rock,  and  shook  the  waters  from  his  mighty 
limbs,  he  heaved  a sigh  so  ponderous  that  surely  it 
helped  to  fill  the  mainsail  now  curving  grandly  to  the 
gathering  breeze. 

But  the  summer  day  ripened  to  noon,  and  waned 
until  the  sun  all  but  touched  the  crest  of  Captain’s  Hill, 
before  the  young  man  gave  over  the  work  at  which  he 
had  labored  like  a Titan  all  day  long,  and  going  down 
to  the  brook  at  a point  where  the  captain  and  he  had 
dug  a semicircular  basin  and  paved  it  about  with  white 
sea-pebbles  by  way  of  a lavatory,  he  made  his  toilet, 
chiefly  by  throwing  the  clear  cool  water  in  bucketfuls 
over  his  head  and  neck,  and  then  rubbing  himself  with 
a coarse  towel  until  the  crisp  hair  curled  vivaciously, 
and  the  fair  skin  glowed  out  from  under  its  coat  of  sun- 
brown  in  strong  relief  to  the  white  teeth  and  blue  eyes 
that  made  the  face  so  comely  in  its  strength. 

A little  brushing  of  the  dark  doublet  and  leathern 
small-clothes,  the  low  russet  boots  and  knitted  hose  that 
completed  his  costume,  and  the  unwilling  envoy  strolled 
down  the  hill  to  Elder  Brewster’s  cottage  and  paused 
unseen  and  unheard  outside  the  open  door.  It  was  the 
quiet  time  in  the  afternoon  when  the  rougher  labors  of 
the  day  were  ended,  and  the  housewife  might  rest  her- 
self with  the  more  delicate  tasks  of  spinning,  knitting, 
or  needlework,  for  it  was  in  these,  “ the  good  old  days  ” 
we  all  so  plaintively  lament,  that  the  distich  — 

“ Man  may  work  from  sun  to  sun 
But  woman’s  work  is  never  done  ” — 

originated,  and  was  something  more  than  a bitter  jest. 


“SPEAK  FOR  YOURSELF , JOHN!”  245 


In  the  elder’s  busy  household  all  the  women  were 
using  this  hour  for  their  own  refreshment-  Mistress 
Brewster  was  lying  upon  her  bed,  Mary  Chilton  had 
taken  her  knitting  and  gone  to  sit  awhile  with  Desire 
Minter  and  Elizabeth  Tilley,  and  Priscilla  drawing  her 
quaintly  carved  spinning-wheel  into  the  middle  of  the 
room  so  that  she  could  look  out  of  the  window  giving 
upon  the  brook  and  distant  Manomet,  was  spinning 
some  exquisitely  fine  linen  thread,  with  which  she  pur- 
posed to  weave  cambric  delicate  enough  for  kerchiefs 
and  caps.  As  she  spun,  she  sang  as  the  birds  sing,  that 
is  from  the  heart,  and  not  from  the  score ; and  now  it 
was  a blithe  chanson  brought  by  her  mother  from  her 
French  home,  and  now  it  was  a snatch  of  some  Dutch 
folks-lied  or  some  Flemish  drinking-song,  and  again  the 
rude  melody  of  an  old  Huguenot  hymn,  the  half  devout, 
half  defiant  invocation  of  men  who  prayed  with  naked 
swords  in  their  hands.  But  suddenly  into  the  sonorous 
strains  of  Luther’s  Hymn  broke  the  joyous  trill  of  a 
linnet’s  song,  and  the  bird  alighting  upon  a neighboring 
poplar  seemed  challenging  the  unseen  songster  to  a trial 
of  skill.  The  stately  hymn  broke  off  in  a little  burst  of 
laughter ; and  then  accepting  the  challenge,  the  girl  took 
up  the  linnet’s  strain  in  an  unworded  song,  sweeter, 
richer,  more  full  of  joy,  and  love,  and  sunshine  than  his 
own,  until  the  little  fellow  with  an  angry  chirp  and  flirt 
of  the  wings  flew  onward  to  the  forest  where  he  knew 
no  such  unequal  contest  awaited  him. 

“ Well  done,  maid ! ” exclaimed  Alden  stepping  in  at 
the  open  door.  “ Thou  hast  so  outsung  the  bird  that  he 
hath  flown.” 

“ Nay,  methinks  he  flew  because  he  saw  an  owl 
abroad,  and  owls  are  ever  grewsome  neighbors  to  poor 


246 


STANDISH  OF  STANDI SE. 


little  songsters,”  replied  Priscilla  dryly,  and,  pressing 
the  treadle  swiftly  she  drew  out  her  cobweb  thread  with 
such  earnest  care  that  she  could  not  look  up  at  the 
tall  and  comely  guest  who  awkwardly  stood  awaiting 
some  more  hospitable  greeting.  Receiving  none,  he 
presently  subsided  upon  a stool  hard  by  the  spinning- 
wheel,  and  after  watching  its  steady  whirl  for  some 
moments  said,  — 

44  What  a fine  thread  thou  drawest,  Priscilla.” 

44  ’T  is  hardly  stout  enough  to  hang  a man,  and  yet 
stout  enough  for  my  purposes,  good  John.” 

44  Wilt  weave  it  on  Master  Allerton’s  loom  when ’t  is 
done  ? ” 

44  Mayhap  I ’ll  weave  it  on  a pillow  into  lace,  as  the 
maids  in  fair  Holland  are  used  to  do.” 

44  Dost  know  their  art  ? ” 

44  Ay.  Jeanne  De  la  Noye  to  whom  I writ  a letter 
by  thy  hand,  John,  she  taught  me,  and  I overpassed  my 
teacher  ere  I was  done.  What  thinkst  thou,  John, 
would  be  said  or  done  should  I weave  some  ells  of  span- 
wide lace  and  trim  my  Sunday  kirtle  therewith  ? Mis- 
tress White,  nay,  Mistress  Winslow  that  is  now,  would 
rend  it  away  with  her  own  fingers.” 

44  And  yet  Master  Winslow  weareth  cambric  ruffs  on 
occasion,  and  his  dame  hath  a paduasoy  kirtle  and 
mantle,  and  so  had  Mistress  Carver,  and  some  others  of 
our  company.” 

44  Marry  come  up ! How  wise  the  lad  hath  grown ! 
Hast  been  pondering  women’s  clothes  instead  of  the 
books  the  Captain  gives  thee  to  study,  John  ? ” 

A change  passed  over  the  young  man’s  face.  The 
careless  allusion  had  recalled  his  errand,  and  moreover 
linked  itself  with  a memory  Priscilla  had  willfully 


“SPEAK  FOR  YOURSELF , JOHN!”  247 


evoked.  He  was  silent  for  a moment,  and  then  pushing 
his  seat  a little  farther  from  the  wheel  he  quietly  said,— 
u Well  do  I like  thy  merry  mood,  Priscilla,  and  care 
not  though  thou  flout  me  ever  so  sharply,  but  mine 
errand  to-day  is  somewhat  of  importance,  and  I pray 
thee  to  listen  seriously.,, 

“ Nay,  good  lad,  waste  not  such  solemnities  on  me. 
’T  will  be  Sunday  in  three  days,  and  thou  canst  take 
the  elder’s  place,  and  let  him  learn  of  thee  how  soberly 
and  seriously  to  exhort  a sinner.” 

“ Priscilla,  wilt  thou  be  serious  ? ” 

" As  death,  John.  What  is  it  ? ” 

“ I writ  a letter  for  thee  to  thy  friend  Jeanne  De  la 
Noye  ” — 

“ ’Tis  a sad  truth,  John.” 

“ And  methought  there  was  in  it  some  word  that 
pointed  to  — to  ” — 

“ Yes ; good  youth,  that  pointed  to  — to  — and  what 
ttien?” 

“ That  pointed  to  some  contract,  or  mayhap  naught 
more  than  some  understanding  ” — 

“ If ’t  was  a word  that  pointed  to  any  understanding 
of  thee  and  thy  stammerings,  John  Alden,  I pray  thee 
speak  it  without  more  ado.  Say  out  what  is  in  thy 
mind  if  indeed  there  is  aught  there.” 

“Well  then,  art  thou  promised  to  Jacques  De  la 
Noye,  and  is  he  coming  here  to  wed  thee  ? ” 

The  rich  color  of  Priscilla’s  cheek  deepened  to  crim- 
son and  the  slender  thread  in  her  hand  snapped  sharply, 
but  in  an  instant  she  recovered  herself,  and  deftly  join- 
ing the  thread  exclaimed,  — 

“ See  now  what  mischief  thy  folly  hath  wrought ! Of 
d truth  there ’s  no  call  to  complain  of  blindness  in  thy 


248 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


speech  now,  Master  Alden.  But  still  I have  noted  that 
if  thou  canst  drive  a bashful  youth  out  of  his  bashful- 
ness, there  are  no  bounds  to  his  forwardness.  ” 

“ Loth  were  I to  offend  thee,  Priscilla,  and  that  thou 
knowest  right  well,  but  I fain  would  have  an  answer  to 
my  query.  If  ’tis  a secret,  thou  knowest  I will  keep 
it.” 

“ Nay,  I ’ll  keep  it  myself,  and  not  trouble  thee  with 
what  proved  too  burdensome  for  myself.” 

“ But  Priscilla,  I am  sent  to  thee  with  a proffer  of 
marriage,  and  if  thou  ’rt  already  bespoke ’t  is  not  fitting 
that  thou  shouldst  hear  it.” 

“Thou’rt  sent,  John  Alden!”  exclaimed  the  girl 
dropping  the  thread,  and  pressing  her  foot  upon  the 
treadle  until  it  creaked.  “ Who  sent  thee  ? ” 

“ Captain  Standish.” 

“Sent  thee  ! Was  it  too  much  honor  to  a poor  maid 
for  him  to  do  his  own  errand  ? ” 

“ Nay,  be  not  angered,  Priscilla,  although  he  feared 
thou  wouldst  be.” 

“ Ah,  he  did  fear  it,  did  he.  Then  why  did  he  do 
it?” 

“ Why,  he  feared  that  thou  wert  angry  already,  and 
he  would  have  thee  know  he  stood  in  terror,  and  dared 
not  present  himself  ” — 

“ John  Alden,  art  thou  and  thy  master  joined  in 
league  to  flout  and  insult  me,  an  orphaned  maid  ? If 
thou  hast  an  errand  from  Captain  Standish  to  me,  say 
it  out  in  as  few  words  as  may  be,  or  I will  never  speak 
word  to  thee  again.” 

Perhaps  the  sight  of  that  suddenly  pallid  face,  those 
blazing  eyes  and  brave  scornful  mouth,  steadied  the 
young  man ’8  nerves,  as  cowards  in  the  camp  have  been 


“SPEAK  FOR  YOURSELF , JOHN'.”  249 


known  to  become  heroes  in  the  field  ; at  any  rate  his 
brow  cleared,  his  voice  grew  assured,  and  rising  to  his 
feet  with  a certain  solemnity  he  said,  — 

“ Thou  ’rt  right,  Priscilla,  and  I have  done  sore  dis- 
credit thus  far  to  the  honorable  master  on  whose  errand 
I come.  Captain  Standish,  as  no  doubt  thou  knowest, 
spake  with  thy  father  before  he  died  of  a marriage  in 
time  to  come  between  him  and  thee  ” — 

“ Nay,  I knew  it  not,  nor  am  bound  by  any  such 
speech,”  interposed  Priscilla  hastily  ; but  Alden  con- 
tinued unmoved,  — 

Captain  Standish  took  it  that  thou  didst  know,  and 
feared  that  thou  hadst  felt  his  silence  to  be  some  want 
of  eagerness  ” — 

“ Ay,  I see  ! He  feared  that  I was  angered  that  he 
had  not  wooed  me  across  his  wife’s  and  my  father’s 
graves,  and  so  thrust  thee  forward  to  bear  the  first  out- 
burst of  my  fury  ! *T  was  kindly  thought  on  if  not  over- 
valiant,  and  ’t  is  an  honorable,  a noble  office  for  thee, 
John,  who  hast  at  odd  times  thrown  me  a soft  word  thy- 
self.” 

“ Oh  maiden,  maiden,  wilt  thou  trample  to  death  the 
poor  heart  that  thou  knowest  is  all  thine  own ! I ‘ throw 
thee  a soft  word  now  and  again  ’ ! Why,  thou  knowest  but 
too  well  how  I hang  like  a beggar  on  thy  footsteps  to 
catch  even  a careless  word  that  thou  mayst  fling  to  me ! 
Thou  knowest  that  I love  thee,  maid,  as  blind  men  love 
sight,  and  dying  men  water,  and  ” — 

“ Then  why  don't  you  speak  for  yourself  John?” 
demanded  Priscilla  quietly,  and  a dainty  smile  softened 
the  proud  curve  of  her  lips,  and  a gleam  of  tenderness 
quenched  the  fire  of  her  eyes ; but  John,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  ground,  saw  it  not. 


250 


STANDISH  OF  STANDI SH. 


iC  Ah  Priscilla,  ’t  is  not  kind  to  try  me  thus  ! ” cried 
he.  “ Sure  thou  hast  triumphed  often  enough  in  despis- 
ing my  humble  suit,  without  wounding  me  afresh  to-day, 
and  when  I fain  would  rally  my  poor  wits  to  honorably 
fulfill  the  embassage  that  brings  me  here.  Sith  I may 
not  hope  to  call  thee  mine,  maiden,  I could  better  bear 
to  see  thee  the  wife  of  the  noble  soldier  whom  I serve 
than  of  any  other  man,  be  he  Fleming  or  Dutchman  or 
what  not,  so  that  thou  art  not  promised.” 

“ Go  on,  then,  and  say  thy  knight’s  message  most 
worthy  squire,  and  let  us  make  an  end  on ’t.” 

“ Thou  knowest  the  captain  for  thyself,  Priscilla,  but 
mayhap  thou  knowest  not  that  he  cometh  of  noble  line- 
age, a race  that  hath  borne  coat-armor  since  Norman 
William  led  them  across  the  Channel  ” — 

“ Didst  not  bring  some  heraldic  tree  or  chart  to 
dazzle  mine  eyes  withal  ? ” inquired  Priscilla,  mock- 
ingly ; but  the  ambassador,  determined  not  again  to  be 
turned  from  his  purpose,  went  on,  — 

“ Among  his  ancestors  are  men  of  noble  deeds  and 
proud  achievements  who  have  carried  the  name  of 
Standish  of  Standish  in  the  forefront  of  battle,  and  in 
King’s  Councils,  and  have  ranked  among  the  princes  of 
the  idolatrous  Church  to  which  they  still  cling;  but  among 
them  all,  Priscilla,  hath  never  risen  a braver,  or  a nobler, 
or  a more  honorable  man  than  he  who  woos  thee  ” — 

" Did  he  bid  thee  say  all  that  also  ? ” 

“ Nay,  Priscilla,  there ’s  a time  for  all  things,  and  I 
must  feel  it  unworthy  of  thy  womanhood  to  so  perversely 
jeer  and  flout  at  a good  man’s  love,  when ’t  is  honestly 
offered  thee.” 

“ Nor  would  I,  John.  But  I have  heard  naught  of 
any  love  offered  me  by  Myles  Standish.  Thou  hast 


“SPEAK  FOR  YOURSELF , JOHN!” 


251 


offered  in  his  name  some  coat-armor,  and  a long  lineage, 
and  courage  both  ancestral  and  of  his  own  person,  and 
— what  else  ? I forget,  but  surely  there  was  no  love 
among  these  commodities.  Didst  drop  it  by  the  way, 
or  did  the  captain  forget  to  send  it,  John  ? ” 

“ Mayhap,  he  kept  it  back  to  give  it  thee  by  word  of 
mouth,  Priscilla,  and  if  he  did,  it  is  a treasure  even  thou 
shouldst  not  despise,  for  never  did  I see  a nature  at 
once  so  brave,  so  strong,  and  so  tender.  Thou  knowest 
how  sorely  ill  I was  six  weeks  or  so  by-gone,  and  none 
did  a hand’s  turn  for  me  but  the  captain,  nor  needed  to, 
for  never  was  nurse  so  delicate  of  touch,  so  unwearied, 
so  cheerful,  and  so  full  of  device  as  he.  No  woman 
ever  equaled  him  in  those  matters  where  we  long  for 
woman’s  tendance,  and  yet  never  a soldier  played  the 
man  more  valiantly  where  man’s  work  was  in  hand. 
Ah  Priscilla,  ’t  is  a heart  of  gold,  a man  among  ten  thou- 
sand, a tower  of  strength  in  danger,  and  a tender  com- 
forter in  suffering  that  is  offered  thee  — be  wise  beyond 
thy  years,  and  answer  him  comfortably.” 

“ And  hast  thou  done,  John  ? Hast  said  all  thy  say  ? ” 
“ Ay,  maid.” 

“ Then  clear  thy  memory  of  it  all,  and  make  room 
for  the  answer  I will  give  thee.” 

“ And  let  it  be  a gentle  one,  Priscilla.” 

“ Oh,  thou  knowest  how  to  dress  an  unwelcome  mes- 
sage in  comely  phrase  better  than  any  man  of  mine 
acquaintance,  unless  it  be  Master  Winslow,”  retorted 
Priscilla  bitterly.  “ So  try  thy  skill  on  simple  NO,  for 
’t  is  all  I have  to  say.” 

“ But  Priscilla,  but  maiden,  bethink  thee  — be  not 
no  shrewd  of  tongue  ” — 

“ Nay,  wilt  have  my  reasons,  Master  Envoy  ? Well 


252 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


then,  I care  not  for  a man  who  cares  not  to  do  his  own 
wooing.  I care  not  for  a man  so  well  assured  that  I 
will  be  held  by  what  he  avers  is  my  dead  father’s  bid- 
ding, that  he  can  let  weeks  and  months  roll  by  or  ever 
he  finds  time  to  convince  himself  of  the  matter.  I care 
naught  for  coat-armor,  nor  for  pedigree,  I,  whose  for- 
bears were  honest  bourgeoisie  of  Lyons  who  scrupled 
not  to  give  up  all  for  conscience  sake,  while  this  man 
is  neither  Papist  like  his  kinsfolk,  nor  Independent  like 
these  he  lives  among.  And  I care  not  for  a red  beard, 
nor  for  widowers,  nor  for  men  old  enough  to  be  my 
sire  ” — 

“ Nay,  he  is  but  six-and-thirty,  maiden.” 

“ And  I am  naught-and-twenty,  and  I am  a-weary  of 
thy  chat,  John  Alden,  and  I fain  would  be  alone,  so  I 
wish  thee  good  e ’en  — and  a keener  wit.” 

“ But  Priscilla,”  gasped  the  poor  fellow  as  the  wheel 
was  pushed  so  suddenly  aside  that  he  had  to  spring 
out  of  its  way,  while  its  mistress  whirled  past  him  and 
up  the  clumsy  stair  leading  to  her  nook  in  the  loft  of 
the  cabin. 

“ But  Priscilla  ! ” came  back  in  wrathful  mimicry 
from  the  head  of  the  stair,  and  while  Alden  still  stood  be- 
wildered, in  at  the  open  door  flocked  Mary  Chilton,  and 
Desire,  and  Elizabeth,  their  girlish  laughter  bubbling 
over  at  some  girlish  jest,  and  with  a muttered  greeting 
Alden  stalked  through  their  midst  and  was  gone. 

“ He  came  looking  for  Priscilla,  and  is  grumly  at  not 
finding  her,”  whispered  Elizabeth  Tilley ; but  Mary 
Chilton  with  a wise  nod  replied,  as  one  who  knows,  — 

“ Did  he  but  know  it,  she ’s  not  ill  inclined  to  him 
when  all  is  said.  Unless  I sore  mistake  she  11  say  yea 
next  time  he  asks  her.” 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  GRAVE. 

“ A fair  and  goodly  day  ! ” exclaimed  Stan  dish  ever 
sensitive  to  the  aspects  of  nature,  although  never  allow- 
ing himself  to  be  mastered  by  any  extremity  of  weather. 

“ Ay,"  replied  Bradford.  “ And  yet  methinks  that 
cloud  rising  over  Manomet  hath  a stormy  look.” 

“ Let  us  once  weather  the  Gurnet’s  Nose,  and  a south 
wind  will  not  harm  us,”  ventured  Billington,  whose  out- 
of-door  prowlings  had  at  least  made  him  weatherwise. 

“ Ay,  if  south  wind  is  all  that  it  means,”  said  Doctor 
Fuller  gravely.  “ But  to  my  mind  yon  cloud  is  of  no 
common  kind.  It  minds  me  shrewdly  of  those  whirl- 
wind or  cyclone  clouds  that  used  to  fright  us  in  the 
China  Seas  when  I sailed  them  as  a lad.” 

“ Say  you  so,  Surgeon ! ” replied  Bradford  looking 
uneasily  at  the  cloud  rapidly  rising  and  enlarging  in  the 
southern  horizon.  “Be  ready  with  the  sheets,  Peter 
Browne  and  Cooke,  and  Francis  Eaton  had  best  stand 
with  Latham  at  the  helm.” 

“ Look  ! Look  you  there ! ’T  is  a waterspout ! ” 
cried  Fuller,  pointing  excitedly  at  the  cloud,  which, 
driven  on  with  furious  force  by  an  upper  current  of 
wind  unfelt  below,  was  now  bellying  in  a marked  and 
abnormal  fashion,  while  from  the  lowest  point  of  the 
convexity  appeared  a spiral  column  of  dense  vapor 
rapidly  elongating  itself  toward  the  sea  whose  waters 


254 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


assumed  a black  and  sullen  aspect,  disturbed  by  chop* 
ping  counter  currents  of  short  waves,  which  gradually, 
as  the  waterspout  neared  them,  fell  into  its  rotary  mo- 
tion, rising  at  the  centre  of  the  whirlpool  into  a column 
of  forming  water,  a liquid  stalagmite  climbing  to  meet 
the  stalactite  bending  to  it  from  above. 

“If  we  had  but  a heavy  gun  ! ” cried  Warren.  “ They 
say  to  hit  the  waterspout  in  the  centre  where  it  joins  the 
other  from  below  will  disperse  it.” 

“ Knocks  the  wind  out  of  it,”  explained  Billington. 

“ But  we  have  nothing  better  than  these  bird  guns,” 
cried  Standish  contemptuously  touching  with  his  foot  the 
pile  of  weapons  covered  with  a tarpaulin  lying  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat.  “ And  it  drives  down  upon  us  like 
a charge  of  horse.  Here,  let  me  to  the  helm.” 

“ There  is  no  way  upon  the  boat,  Captain,”  expostu- 
lated Eaton.  “ No  man  can  steer  without  a wind.” 

“ Thou  ’rt  right,  friend,”  replied  the  captain  gravely, 
as  he  felt  the  rudder  give  beneath  his  hand.  “ There ’s 
naught  to  do  but  tarry  until  Master  Waterspout  declar- 
etli  his  pleasure.” 

“ Until  God  declareth  His  pleasure,”  amended  Brad- 
ford quietly.  “ Men,  let  us  pray.” 

And  baring  his  head  the  governor  poured  forth  a 
strong  and  manful  petition  to  Him  who  rideth  upon  the 
wings  of  the  wind  and  reigneth  a King  forever  over  His 
own  creation. 

Standish  standing  upright  beside  the  useless  tiller 
bared  his  head  and  listened  reverently,  but  always  with 
an  eye  to  the  waterspout  and  to  the  clouds,  and  as  a 
deep-throated  Amen  rose  from  his  comrades  he  gave  the 
tiller  a shove  and  joyously  cried,  — 

“ A puff,  a breath ! Enough  to  steer  us  past ! ” And 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  GRAVE. 


255 


the  boat  feeling  her  helm  again  careened  gently  to  the 
little  gust  of  wind  out  of  the  west,  and  slid  away  upon 
her  course,  while  the  waterspout,  more  furious  in  its 
speed  at  every  instant,  swept  past  and  out  to  sea,  where 
it  presently  broke  and  fell  with  a thunderous  explosion. 

“ Another  crowning  mercy  ! ” exclaimed  Bradford  de- 
voutly, and  Standish  answered  with  his  reticent  smile, — 

“ Had  Master  Jones  of  the  Mayflower  been  here,  he 
would  have  more  than  ever  felt ’t  is  better  to  be  friends 
than  foes  with  prayerful  men.” 

To  the  waterspout  succeeded  light  and  baffling  winds 
so  that  labor  as  they  might,  it  was  fully  dark  when  the 
Pilgrim  pinnace  entered  what  is  now  Barnstable,  then 
Cummaquid  Harbor.  Anchoring  for  safety,  they  lay 
down  to  get  such  rest  as  the  position  afforded,  and  woke 
betimes  in  the  morning  to  find  themselves  high  and  dry 
in  the  centre  of  the  harbor,  the  channel  encircling  them 
and  making  up  toward  the  land.  Upon  the  shore  as 
seen  across  this  channel  appeared  some  savages  gather- 
ing clams  and  muscles. 

Bradford  at  once  dispatched  Squanto  and  Tockama- 
hamon,  who  had  come  along  as  guides  and  interpreters, 
to  interview  these  men  and  barter  for  some  of  the 
shellfish,  but  in  a very  short  time  the  envoys  came 
splashing  merrily  back  with  an  invitation  for  the  white 
men  to  land  and  breakfast  with  Janno.  the  chief  of 
the  Mattakees,  who  was,  the  fishermen  said,  close  at 
hand.  They  also  corroborated  the  statement  that  the 
missing  boy  had  gone  down  the  Cape  with  the  Nausets, 
and  would  be  found  at  Eastham,  Aspinet’s  headquarters. 

“ I see  no  reason  for  gainsaying  such  a comfortable 
proposal,”  said  Bradford  turning  with  a smile  to  Stan 
dish  who  cheerily  replied,  — 


256 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH , 


“ Not  I,  so  that  they  leave  hostages  aboard,  and  we 
carry  every  man  his  piece  ashore.” 

“We  must  e’en  wade  for  it,  sith  there  is  neither  dry 
ground  for  footing  nor  water  for  swimming,”  suggested 
Browne  stripping  off  hose  and  shoon ; but  as  Bradford 
and  Standish  began  to  follow  his  example  they  were 
prevented  by  the  Indians,  who  offered  each  a back  to 
the  two  chiefs,  at  the  same  time  intimating  to  the  others 
that  if  they  would  but  wait  all  the  company  should 
be  similarly  accommodated.  The  doctor  accepted,  hut 
Browne  and  the  rest  preferred  their  own  legs  as  a de- 
pendence, and  the  whole  party  presently  reached  shore, 
where  Janno,  the  handsome  and  courteous  young  chief 
of  the  Mattakees,  stood  with  several  of  his  pnieses  or 
nobles  around  him  ready  to  receive  them.  Squanto  at 
once  stood  forth  as  interpreter,  and  so  flowery  and  mel- 
lifluous were  the  phrases  of  welcome  that  he  interpreted, 
that  the  captain  edging  toward  Bradford  muttered,  — 

“ I hope  Master  Warren  will  look  well  after  the  hos- 
tages left  aboard,  for  all  this  is  too  sweet  to  be  whole- 
some. I mistrust  treachery,  Governor.” 

“Nay,  I mistrust  Squanto,  Captain,”  replied  Bradford 
laughing.  “ The  poor  fellow  doth  glorify  himself  at 
some  cost  to  the  truth,  I fancy.” 

“ Beshrew  me  but  before  another  month  I ’ll  know 
enough  of  their  jargon  to  need  no  lying  interpreter,” 
muttered  Standish,  and  he  kept  his  word. 

The  Indian  breakfast,  already  nearly  ready,  proved 
both  toothsome  and  plentiful.  It  consisted  of  lobsters, 
clams,  and  muscles,  both  cooked  and  raw,  ears  of  green 
maize  roasted  in  the  husk,  and  no-cake,  that  is  to  say, 
pounded  corn  mixed  with  water  and  baked  in  the  ashes, 
the  germ  and  animus  of  hoe-cake,  bannocks,  Johnny- 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  GRAVE . 257 

cake,  and  all  the  various  forms  of  maize-bread  so  well 
known  throughout  our  land. 

Breakfast  over  Janno  rather  timidly  inquired  if  the 
white  chiefs  would  permit  the  visit  of  an  old  squaw  of 
his  tribe  who  much  desired  to  see  them. 

“ Surely  if  the  good  woman  hath  occasion  to  speak 
with  us,”  replied  Bradford  amiably.  “ Why  doth  the 
chief  seem  to  mistrust  our  willingness  ? ” 

“ Squaw  no  speak  to  brave  in  council,”  explained 
Squanto  with  an  air  of  shocked  propriety ; but  before 
he  could  further  explain  a bowed  and  decrepit  figure 
emerged  from  one  of  the  little  huts  on  the  edge  of  the 
woods  and  slowly  approached  the  white  men  who  stepped 
forward  to  meet  her,  desiring  Squanto  to  assure  her 
of  welcome.  Coming  so  close  to  the  little  group  that 
Standish  muttered,  “ Sure  she  is  minded  to  salute  us,” 
the  poor  old  crone  peered  into  the  face  of  one  after 
another  of  the  white  men,  then  wofully  shook  her  head 
and  began  to  mutter  in  her  own  tongue  with  strange 
gesticulations,  but  as  he  heard  them  Squanto  uttered 
a shrill  cry  of  terror,  and  the  sachem  stepping  forward 
spoke  some  words  of  stern  command,  before  which  the 
old  woman  humbly  bowed  and  became  silent. 

“What  is  it  ? Would  she  curse  us  ? What  is  her 
grievance  ? What  is  her  story  ? ” demanded  Bradford 
half  indignantly,  and  Squanto,  after  some  conference 
with  the  sachem,  informed  them  that  this  woman,  once 
called  Sunlight -up  on -the -Waters,  but  now  known  as 
The-Night-in-Winter,  had  been  mother  of  seven  tall  sons 
Who  filled  her  wigwam  with  venison,  and  shared  their 
corn  and  tobacco  with  her ; but  three  of  these  sons  were 
among  the  captives  entrapped  and  sold  to  slavery  by 
Hunt,  and  the  other  four  had  perished  in  the  plague 


258 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


brought  down  upon  the  red  men  by  the  curse  of  The- 
White-Fool  who  died  about  the  same  time ; and  thus 
The-Night-in- Winter,  having  just  cause,  hated  the  white 
men  as  she  hated  death  and  the  devil,  and  wished  to 
curse  them  as  The-White-Fool  had  cursed  her  people, 
but  the  sachem  would  not  let  her,  and  now  she  was 
doubly  bereft  of  her  children,  since  she  might  not  even 
avenge  them. 

“ ’T  is  a piteous  tale,”  said  Bradford  gently  when 
Squanto  had  finished.  “And  we  cannot  be  amazed 
that  this  poor  heathen  mother  should  thus  feel.  There 
is  warrant  for  it  among  the  classics,  Surgeon  ; Medea 
and  others  were  moved  in  the  same  fashion.  But 
Squanto,  explain  to  her  that  we  and  all  honest  white 
men  abhor  the  course  of  Master  Hunt,  and  had  we  found 
him  at  such  commerce  we  would  have  delivered  her 
sons,  and  thee  too,  Squanto,  out  of  his  hands.  Tell  her 
our  mind  is  to  deal  honestly  and  Christianly  by  all  men, 
and  here,  give  her  this  fair  chain,  and  this  length  of  red 
cloth.  Tell  her  that  she  would  do  ill  to  curse  us,  for 
we  are  friends  to  her  and  her  people.” 

“And  ask  who  was  The-White-Fool,  and  what  his 
story,”  demanded  Standish  as  Squanto  finished  render- 
ing the  governor’s  message. 

“ Squanto  know  that  in  himself.  Every  Pokanoket 
know  that,”  replied  Squanto,  while  Janno  muttered 
gloomily  in  his  own  tongue,  — 

“ All  red  men  know  The- White-Fool’s  curse.  All  feel 
it.”  So  Squanto  in  his  broken  yet  picturesque  phrases 
told  how  “ many  snows  ago  ” a large  French  ship  was 
wrecked  farther  down  the  Cape  and  nearly  everything 
aboard  was  lost.  Several  of  her  crew,  however,  came 
safely  ashore  and  made  a sort  of  camp  with  some  earth, 
work  defenses  on  the  mouth  of  the  Pamet  River. 


TEE  MYSTERIOUS  GRAVE. 


259 


“Why  men,  we  saw  it,  and  mused  upon  the  marks 
of  European  skill  and  training,”  exclaimed  Standish. 

“Ay,  and  the  house  hard  by,  and  the  marvelous 
grave  with  the  fair-haired  man  and  infant  so  curiously 
embalmed,”  added  Fuller. 

“ Truly,  this  is  passing  strange  ! ” murmured  Brad- 
ford. “ But  get  on  with  thy  story,  Tisquantum.” 

The  Frenchmen  were  quiet  and  peaceable  enough, 
Tisquantum  could  not  but  allow,  and  yet  his  people 
would  not  permit  them  to  dwell  unmolested,  perhaps 
from  some  vague  fear  of  ancient  prophecy  that  a pale- 
faced  race  should  come  from  the  rising  sun  and  drive 
the  red  men  into  the  western  seas ; perhaps  from  some 
race-hatred  lying  below  the  savage’s  power  of  expres- 
sion ; at  any  rate,  as  Tisquantum  finally  declared  with  a 
significant  gesture,  — 

“ Sagamore,  powahs,  pnieses,  braves,  all  men  say,  It 
is  not  good  for  pale  men  with  hair  like  the  sunrise  to 
live  among  the  red  men  whose  hair  is  like  the  night. 
Let  them  be  gone  ! ” 

“ And  what  did  the  red  men  do  about  it,  Squanto  ? ” 
asked  Standish  sternly,  while  in  his  eyes  kindled  the 
danger  light  before  which  Squanto  quailed,  yet  sullenly 
replied,  — 

“ Bed  man  find  what  you  call  wolf  around  his  wig- 
wam, red  man  send  arrow  through  his  head.” 

“ Do  you  mean,  you  heathen,  that  you  murdered  these 
helpless,  shipwrecked  white  men  ? Murdered  them  in 
cold  blood  ? ” demanded  Standish,  seizing  Gideon’s  hilt 
and  half  drawing  him  from  his  scabbard. 

“ Tisquantum  not  here.  Tisquantum  not  Mattakee, 
not  Nauset ; Tisquantum  Patuxet,  where  white  men  live,” 
hastily  replied  Squanto  ; while  Bradford  suggested  in  a 


260 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


rapid  aside,  a Best  leave  go  thy  sword  and  restrain  thy 
wrath,  Captain,  or  we  be  but  dead  men.  Look  at  the 
faces  of  those  men  behind  the  sachem.  Already  they 
finger  their  tomahawks.” 

“ More  like,  thy  timidity  will  give  the  savages  cour- 
age to  fall  upon  us,  and  we  shall  share  the  fate  of  these, 
who  though  naught  but  Frenchmen  were  at  least  white, 
and  wore  breeches,”  retorted  Standish  angrily.  The 
color  flashed  into  Bradford's  cheek,  but  after  an  in- 
stant’s silence  he  quietly  replied,  — 

“ Thou  knowest  well  enow,  Standish,  that  my  timidity 
is  not  for  myself  but  for  these,  and  yet  more  for  the 
helpless  ones  we  have  left  behind.  I trust  when  it 
comes  to  blows,  the  Governor  of  Plymouth  will  be  found 
where  he  belongs,  next  to  her  fiery  Captain.” 

“ Be  content,  Will,  be  content.  Once  more  thou  ’rt 
right  and  I all  wrong.  ’T  is  not  the  first  time  nor  the 
last,  but  let  us  ask  in  all  patience  what  these  fellows 
mean  with  their  White-Fool.  Sure  they  have  not  made 
me  out  so  suddenly  as  this,  have  they  ? ” 

“ Nay,  Myles,  I trow  no  man  but  thyself  will  ever 
call  thee  fool,  nay,  nor  overly  white,  either ! ” and 
glancing  at  the  Captain’s  bronzed  face  lighted  once 
more  by  its  smile  of  grim  humor,  Bradford  turned  to 
Squanto  and  bade  him  explain  in  the  hearing  of  both 
savages  and  white  men  the  meaning  of  this  reference, 
and  also  the  fate  of  the  French  mariners  cast  ashore  at 
Eastham. 

Squanto  nothing  loth  to  display  his  oratory  struck  an 
attitude,  and  with  native  eloquence  and  much  gesticu- 
lation described,  first,  the  storm  which  four  years  ago 
had  driven  the  French  brig  upon  the  sands  ; then  the  ef- 
forts of  the  mariners  to  launch  their  boats,  their  defeat, 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  GRAVE. 


261 


and  the  breaking  up  both  of  boats  and  brig ; then  the 
arrival  upon  shore  of  thirteen  men,  two  of  whom  died 
of  wounds  and  exhaustion.  The  eleven  survivors  find- 
ing some  wreckage  upon  the  beach  proceeded  the  next 
morning  to  build  themselves  a shelter,  and  finally 
erected  the  cabin  and  threw  up  the  earthwork  discov- 
ered by  the  Pilgrims  in  their  second  exploration. 

Up  to  this  point  the  Indians  had  been  content  to  curi- 
ously watch  the  proceedings  of  these  interlopers,  but  find- 
ing that  they  were  establishing  themselves  permanently, 
they  held  a council  and  resolved  that  they  should  die, 
partly  in  atonement  for  the  outrage  done  to  the  red  men 
some  two  years  before  by  Hunt  the  kidnapper,  and 
partly  from  some  vague  fear  lest  the  strangers  with  their 
superior  knowledge  and  appliances  should  conquer  and 
injure  the  proper  owners  of  the  soil. 

Not  choosing  to  assault  them  openly,  for  the  men  \Vere 
brave,  alert,  and  well  armed,  the  Indians  laid  in  wait 
around  the  spring  where  they  must  daily  go  for  water, 
watched  them  as  they  went  afield  in  pursuit  of  game,  in 
fact  harassed  them  at  every  turn,  until  of  the  eleven  but 
three  were  left  alive,  and  they,  so  broken  in  strength, 
courage,  and  hope,  that  they  were  easily  captured  and 
reduced  to  slavery.  One  remained  here  at  Nauset, 
and  the  other  two  were  sent,  one  to  the  Massachusetts, 
the  other  to  the  Namasket  tribes,  where  they  were 
kept  as  the  mock  and  victims  of  the  brutal  spcrt  of 
the  savages.  The  one  who  remained  at  Nauset  was  the 
best  looking,  and  evidently  the  most  attractive  of  the 
three,  and  from  Squanto’s  description  seemed  to  have 
been  an  officer,  and  a very  attractive  young  man.  The- 
White-Birch,  sister  of  Aspinet,  chief  of  the  Nausets, 
having  fixed  her  regards  upon  the  prisoner,  discovered 


262 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


these  peculiarities,  and  one  day  when  the  boys  of  the 
village  were  amusing  themselves  with  seeing  how  near 
they  could  shoot  their  blunted  arrows  to  the  prisoner’s 
eyes  without  putting  them  out,  she  stepped  forward,  and, 
Pocahontas-like,  announced  that  she  took  this  man  for 
her  husband,  and  as  such  claimed  his  release  from  tor- 
ture. Her  demand  was  complied  with,  and  the  half 
dead  victim  unbound  and  informed  of  his  new  honors ; 
but  it  was  too  late  — want,  misery,  and  cruelty  had  done 
their  work,  and  the  poor  fellow’s  wits  had  fled.  He  ac- 
cepted the  tender  care  and  affection  of  The-White-Birch 
as  a child  might  have  done,  but  the  joyous  gallantry  of 
the  debonair  young  French  officer  was  a thing  of  the 
past,  and  the  bridegroom  had  become  as  completely  the 
child  of  nature  as  his  bride.  He  was  adopted  into 
the  tribe,  and  the  Indian  name  given  him,  in  no  spirit 
of  taunt  or  contempt,  but  simply  as  a descriptive  appel- 
lation, meant  The- White-Fool. 

They  were  married,  these  two  strange  lovers,  and  lived 
in  the  cabin  built  of  ship’s  planks  by  The- White-Fool’s 
dead  comrades.  In  due  time  a son  was  born  to  them, 
the  idol  of  his  mother’s  heart,  and  the  constant  compan- 
ion of  the  father,  who  seemed  to  find  in  the  child  some 
link  with  his  own  stray  wits  ; but  when  the  boy  was  about 
three  years  old  the  poor  exile  was  seized  with  a fever, 
and  in  his  delirium  escaping  from  his  tender  nurse  stalked 
naked  through  the  village  proclaiming  in  the  native 
tongue  that  the  wrath  of  God  hung  over  this  people  and 
this  land,  because  of  the  cruel  wrong  they  had  done  to 
him  and  to  his  comrades;  and  he  foretold  that  before 
seven  snows  had  covered  his  grave,  white  men  from 
over  the  sea  should  come  like  the  wildfowl  in  the  spring 
and  settle  down  upon  the  creeks  and  ponds,  and  fill  the 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  GRAVE . 263 

forest  with  their  cry,  and  the  red  men  should  melt  away 
as  the  snow  melts  and  their  place  be  no  more  seen. 

It  was  really  worth  something  to  hear  Squanto  de- 
claim this  wild  prophecy  with  the  shrill  voice  and  fe- 
vered gestures  of  the  delirious  captive ; and  as  they 
caught  his  meaning  the  pnieses  around  Janno  stirred 
in  their  places,  laid  hand  upon  the  tomahawk  at  each 
man’s  girdle,  and  cast  menacing  looks  upon  the  stran- 
gers. 

“ Have  a care,  Squanto  ! Say  no  more  on  that  head, 
or  thou  It  stir  up  strife  afresh,”  muttered  Bradford  in 
the  interpreter’s  ear,  while  Standish  fixed  his  eyes  upon 
Janno  ready  to  sacrifice  him  at  the  first  hostile  move- 
ment. But  the  young  chief  casting  a meaning  glance 
around  the  circle  said  quietly,  — 

“ The- White-Birch  was  of  the  blood  of  Aspinet  my 
brother,  and  The-White-Fool  was  her  husband.” 

“ Well  said,  Chief  ! ” exclaimed  Standish  who  had  al- 
ready mastered  much  of  the  Indian  language,  and  in 
accordance  with  his  late  resolve  soon  became  the  most 
expert  interpreter  in  the  colony,  while  Bradford  nod- 
ding said,  “ Go  on,  Squanto  ! ” 

Little  however  remained  to  tell.  The  ill-starred 
Frenchman  died  within  a few  hours  of  his  prophecy,  and 
hardly  had  The- White-Birch  laid  him  in  his  honored 
grave  when  she  was  called  to  bury  her  little  boy,  whom 
the  father  had  named  Louis,  along  with  him.  Then 
she  set  off  alone  to  find  the  comrades  of  her  lost  love  at 
Namasket,  and  Shawmut,  that  they  might  with  her  la- 
ment his  death  ; but  whether  illness  came  upon  her  and 
she  crept  aside  to  die,  or  haply  some  wild  creature  slew 
and  devoured  her,  or  in  her  maze  of  grief  she  strayed 
away  and  starved  in  the  limitless  woods,  none  ever  knew ; 
she  never  was  heard  of  again. 


264 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


u And  the  other  two  captives  ? ” inquired  Standish. 

“ The  Feast-of-Green-Corn  before  the  last  one,  Cap* 
tain  Dermer  carried  them  away  in  his  ship,”  replied 
Squanto  proud  of  his  English  and  his  information. 

“ Ay,  ay,  and  now  we  understand  why  these  Nauset 
Indians  attacked  us  at  the  First  Encounter,”  said  Stan- 
dish. 

“ Especially  as  they  had  probably  watched  us  steal- 
ing their  corn,”  added  Fuller  dryly. 

“ Borrowing,  not  stealing,  Surgeon,”  retorted  Brad- 
ford briskly.  “ And  a part  of  our  errand  to  the  First 
Encounter  is  to  satisfy  our  creditor  for  the  debt.  Let 
us  be  going.” 

An  hour  later  the  shallop,  now  riding  gayly  upon  the 
flood  tide,  put  forth  from  Barnstable  Harbor,  carrying 
not  only  its  own  crew,  but  Janno  with  several  of  his 
followers,  he  having  volunteered  as  guide  and  negotiator 
with  Aspinet  for  the  restoration  of  little  Billington. 

The  voyage  prospered,  and  before  night  the  boy, 
decked  with  strings  of  beads  and  various  savage  orna- 
ments, was  restored  to  his  guardians  by  Aspinet  himself ; 
while  the  first  red  man  allowed  to  come  on  board  the 
shallop  was  the  owner  of  the  corn  “ borrowed  ” by  the 
Pilgrims,  who  now  repaid  its  value  twofold  by  an  order 
for  goods  to  be  delivered  at  Plymouth.  But  more  im- 
portant than  boy  or  corn,  at  any  rate  to  the  ears  of 
Standish,  was  a report  here  received  that  the  Narragan- 
setts,  their  friend  Massasoit’s  neighbors  and  deadly  foes, 
had  made  a raid  upon  his  domains  and  carried  him 
away  prisoner.  Also  that  one  of  Massasoit’s  pnieses 
called  Corbitant  had  become  an  ally  of  the  Narragan- 
setts,  and  was  now  at  Namasket,  only  fourteen  miles 
from  Plymouth,  trying  to  raise  a revolt  against  both  his 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  GRAVE . 


265 


chief  and  the  white  men  their  allies.  He  was  also 
fiercely  denouncing  Squanto,  Hobomok,  and  Tockama- 
hamon  as  renegades  and  traitors  to  their  own  people, 
who  should  be  at  once  put  to  death. 

This  news  was  so  alarming  that  without  waiting  for 
trade,  or  for  the  feast  offered  to  them,  the  Pilgrims  at 
once  set  sail,  and  after  stormy  weather  and  sundry 
adventures  arrived  safely  at  home  toward  night  of  the 
third  day  from  their  departure.  John  Billington  was, 
received  with  vociferous  joy  by  his  mother,  treated  to  a 
lithe  bundle  of  birch  rods  by  his  father,  and  assaulted 
by  his  brother,  who  at  once  fought  him  for  the  posses- 
sion of  the  bead  necklaces  and  other  gauds  he  had 
brought  home.  The  men  of  the  colony  were  meantime 
hearing  the  report  brought  in  by  Nepeof,  a sachem  just 
from  Namasket,  of  the  treacherous  proceedings  there, 
and  before  they  had  been  three  hours  at  home  Squanto 
and  Hobomok  were  dispatched  to  discover  the  truth  of 
the  matter,  while  Nepeof  was  held  as  a hostage. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


A LITTLE  DISCIPLINE. 

“ And  how  sped  you  in  your  errand,  Master  Envoy  ? 
inquired  Standish  as,  lighted  pipe  in  hand,  he  once  more 
seated  himself  upon  the  bench  outside  his  cabin  door  to 
enjoy  the  sunset  hour. 

But  at  the  sudden  question  John  Alden’s  face  flushed 
deeper  than  the  sunset,  and  he  stammered,  “ I am  so 
blundering,  Master  — I told  the  maiden  all  you  bade 
me,  but  — but  ” — 

“ But  what,  thou  stammering  idiot ! roared  the 
captain,  his  serene  brow  suddenly  overcast,  and  the  red 
surging  up  to  his  own  brow.  “ Dost  mean  to  say  the 
girl  flouted  the  suit  of  — nay,  then,  what  dost  thou 
mean  ? Speak  out,  man,  and  be  not  so  timorous  ! ” 

“Here  is  Giles  Hopkins ! ” exclaimed  John,  as  feet 
were  heard  running  up  the  hill,  and  the  captain  angrily 
turned  to  meet  the  new-comer,  shouting,  — 

“Well,  what  dost  thou  want,  youngster?  Is  a man 
never  to  be  rid  of  half-wit  boys  in  this  place  ! ” 

“ Please,  Captain,  the  governor  desires  you  to  come 
in  haste  to  a sudden  Council.  The  Indians  are  come  in, 
and  methinks  ” — 

“And  who  in  Beelzebub’s  name  cares  what  thou 
thinkst ! ” shouted  the  captain.  “ Begone  before  I box 
thy  malapert  ears.”  And  driving  the  lad  before  him 
he  strode  down  the  hill  without  another  word  or  look  at 
John,  who  grinding  his  heel  into  the  turf  muttered, — 


A LITTLE  DISCIPLINE . 


267 


“ And  now  he  ’s  angered,  and  beshrew  me  if  I could 
not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  wish  Priscilla  had  said  him 
yea,  rather  than  nay.  It  were  easier  to  bear  her  scorn 
of  me  if  I knew  that  he  was  content.  ’T  is  not  so  hard 
to  suffer  loss  if  a dear  friend  gains  by  that  same  loss.” 
Meantime  Standish  striding  wrathfully  down  the  hill 
met  Priscilla  as  she  darted  out  of  the  door  of  the  elder’s 
house.  At  sight  of  him  she  stopped  short,  coloring 
scarlet,  and  yet  her  whole  face  gleaming  with  a wicked 
inclination  to  laugh. 

The  captain  also  hesitated  a moment,  and  then  re- 
moving his  barret  cap  with  a bow  whose  stately  courtesy 
recalled  his  lineage  he  said,  — 

“ Pardon  me,  Mistress  Molines,  for  what  it  seems  was 
undue  presumption.  May  I ask  if  the  Council  is  con- 
vened  here  or  at  the  Common  house  ? ” 

“ At  the  Common  house,  Captain ; but  indeed  and  by 
my  faith  I know  not  ” — 

“ Pardon  if  I venture  to  cut  you  short,  Mistress,  but 
I am  summoned  in  haste  to  the  Council.” 

And  with  another  formal  bow  the  captain  hastened 
on,  leaving  Priscilla  biting  her  lip  and  staring  after  him, 
half  angry,  half  amused.  “ One  could  be  proud  of  him 
— if — if  — Oh  heart,  heart ! What  is  ’t  thou  ’rt  clam- 
oring for!  Well  — at  least  I can  go  and  make  a posset 
for  my  dear  dame,  and  the  rest  may  wait.”  And  with 
a sigh  and  a smile  and  a blush  the  girl  turned  back  to 
the  things  of  the  hour. 

“ Now  here ’s  a coil,  Captain  ! ” exclaimed  Bradford 
as  Standish  entered  the  large  room  where  about  a dozen 
of  the  men  of  the  colony  were  assembled  in  informal 
council,  while  in  the  midst  stood  Hobomok,  his  red  skin 
streaming  with  perspiration  and  stained  with  travel* 


268 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


while  his  usually  impassive  face  bore  an  expression  of 
genuine  grief  and  dismay. 

“ What  is  it  ? Ha,  Hobomok  returned  alone  ! ” 

“ Yes,  and  with  evil  tidings/’  replied  the  Governor. 
“ He  and  Squanto  reached  Namasket  early  this  morning 
and  sought  to  conceal  themselves  in  a house  belonging 
to  Squanto,  though  now  lent  to  a kinsman.  But  some 
one  betrayed  them  to  Corbitant,  who  was  vaporing 
around  the  village  calling  upon  the  men  to  rise  in  revolt 
against  Massasoit  and  deliver  him  up  to  the  Narragan- 
setts,  and  saying  that  we  white  men  should  all  be  slain, 
and  also  those  who  have  made  alliance  with  us,  for 
already  he  had  news  of  our  visit  to  Nauset,  and  the  con- 
tract made  with  Aspinet,  and  Canacum,  and  Iyanough. 
While  yet  he  raved  against  Squanto,  and  Hobomok,  and 
Tockamahamon,  a traitor  told  him  that  the  two  first 
were  hiding  in  the  village,  and  he  swore  a great  oath  by 
all  his  gods  that  they  should  die,  especially  Squanto,  in 
whom,  said  he,  the  white  men  will  lose  their  tongue  ” — 
“ What  meant  he  by  that,  Governor  ? ” demanded 
Warren. 

“ Why,  that  he  is  our  interpreter,”  sharply  replied 
Standish.  “ What  else  should  he  mean  ? What  next, 
Governor  ? ” 

“ Next  they  circumvented  Squanto  in  his  cabin,  and 
Corbitant  seizing  him  held  a knife  to  his  throat,  mock- 
ing and  taunting  him  as  is  their  fashion,  while  two  fell 
upon  Hobomok,  but  he  being  a lusty  fellow  and  quick, 
broke  from  them  and  fled  hither  so  fast  as  legs  could 
carry  him.  You  see  the  condition  he  is  in.” 

“ And  left  thy  comrade  to  die  ! ” ejaculated  Standish 
looking  scornfully  at  the  Indian,  who  humbly  replied  in 
his  own  tongue,  — 


A LITTLE  DISCIPLINE. 


269 


“ Hobomok  only  one  man.  Corbitant  many  men. 
Squanto  perhaps  dead,  but  the  white  man  will  send 
a hundred  of  his  enemies  to  be  his  servants  in  the  Happy 
Land.  A brave  fears  not  to  die,  if  he  may  be  avenged.” 
“ Ha ! ’T  is  the  savage  philosophy,  and  not  a bad 
one,”  said  Standish,  and  although  the  elder  raised  stern 
eyes  of  rebuke  upon  the  reckless  soldier  he  continued,  — 
“ And  I shall  lead  our  forces  to  avenge  both  the  death 
of  our  servant  and  Massasoit’s  capture,  shall  I not, 
brethren  ? What  is  your  will  ? ” 

“ Sound  policy  dictates  that  if  our  allies  are  to  respect 
us,  or  our  enemies  fear  us,  we  should  not  suffer  such  an 
affront  as  this  to  pass,”  declared  Winslow.  “ England 
hath  never  yet  borne  that  her  flag  should  be  insulted, 
and  we  are  Englishmen.” 

“ You  are  right,  Winslow,”  replied  Bradford  sol- 
emnly. “ And  loth  though  we  may  be  to  shed  the  blood 
of  these  men,  whom  we  fain  would  convert  to  friends 
and  Christians,  it  is  my  mind  that  in  this  instance  we 
are  bound  to  deal  with  them  as  with  our  own  children, 
whom  we  indeed  chastise,  but  still  with  an  eye  to  their 
own  future  happiness.” 

“ 6 Now  no  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth  to  be 
joyous  but  grievous : nevertheless  afterward  it  yieldeth 
the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness  to  them  which  are 
exercised  thereby/  ” quoted  the  Elder  sententiously, 
while  Standish  stood  impatiently  twisting  his  moustache, 
and  glancing  around  the  assembly  as  if  selecting  his 
men. 

“ And  now,  having  chapter  and  verse  for  avenging 
this  affront,  let  us  set  about  doing  it,”  exclaimed  he  as 
several  of  the  company  murmured  Amen  to  the  Elder’s 
approved  quotation.  But  Bradford  fixed  his  steady 


270 


STANDISH  OF  STANDI  SI 1. 


eyes  upon  the  soldier’s  face  for  a moment  before  he 
somewhat  coldly  asked,  — 

“ How  many  men  do  you  think  it  best  to  take,  Cap- 
tain Standish?” 

“Ten.  Hopkins,  the  Surgeon,  Winslow,  Browne, 
Howland,  Gilbert  Winslow,  Billington,  Eaton,  Dotey, 
and  Lister,”  replied  Standish  promptly,  and  then  with 
his  peculiarly  winning  smile  he  added,  — 

“ You  see  I leave  the  governor,  with  Master  Allerton 
his  assistant,  to  guide  the  colon}'',  and  the  elder  to  pray 
for  our  success,  and  Master  Warren  for  a councilor,  and 
the  rest  to  carry  on  our  various  labors  and  protect  the 
weaklings.” 

“ It  is  a good  division  it  seemeth  to  me.  What  say 
you  all,  brethren?”  asked  the  governor  still  gravely, 
and  one  by  one  each  man  signified  his  assent,  only  How- 
land coming  close  to  the  captain  asked,  — 

“ May  not  Alden  go  with  us,  Captain  ? He  hath 
a very  pretty  fashion  with  his  weapon.” 

“ Am  I captain,  or  art  thou,  John  Howland  ? ” 
growled  the  leader,  and  as  all  turned  out  of  the  house 
to  prepare  for  the  march  in  the  following  dawn,  Brad- 
ford laid  his  hand  upon  his  friend’s  shoulder  and  walked 
along  with  him. 

“ What  ails  thee,  Myles  ? Thou  ’rt  sorely  chafed  at 
something.  Is  aught  amiss  that  I can  help  ? ” 

“ Nay,  Will,  ’t  is  naught,  and  less  than  naught.  ’T  is 
but  a new  knowledge  of  mine  own  unworthiness.  Sure 
‘ never  such  a fool  as  an  old  fool  ’ is  a good  proverb.” 

“ ’T  is  not  to  a fool  that  we  trust  the  lives  of  ten  out 
of  our  nineteen  men,”  said  Bradford  quietly. 

“ Oh,  I can  fight  well  enow,”  replied  the  soldier  bit- 
terly. “ ’T  is  my  trade,  and  all  I ’m  fit  for.  Ay,  and  in 


A LITTLE  DISCIPLINE.  271 

my  mood  to-day  I ’ll  be  fain  to  fight.  I only  fear  this 
knave  Corbitant  hath  run  away.” 

“ If  so,  he  confesses  his  defeat  without  the  need  of 
bloodshed,”  suggested  Bradford.  “ And  at  all  odds, 
Standish,  our  policy  is  to  make  friends  by  fair  means  if 
we  may.  Remember,  if  Squanto  is  not  harmed,  Cor- 
bitant is  not  to  be  touched.  If  indeed  our  poor  friend 
is  slain,  then  have  you  warrant  for  Corbitant’s  head, 
and  the  lives  of  all  who  helped  to  murder  Squanto. 
Thou  ’rt  too  honorable  a man  and  too  good  a Christian 
to  let  thine  own  chafed  humor  interfere  with  justice.” 

“I  am  too  well  drilled  a soldier  to  disobey  orders, 
Governor,”  replied  the  Captain  briefly,  and  so  they 
parted,  nor  did  Standish  and  Alden  exchange  a sen- 
tence that  night  save  barely  these,  — 

“In  one  word,  John,  was  the  answer  to  my  message 
yes  or  no  ? ” 

“ Dear  Master,  it  was  no.” 

“ I bade  thee  answer  in  one  word,  and  thou  hast  dis- 
obeyed me  in  using  five.” 

The  next  morning  brought  one  of  those  furious  sum- 
mer storms  peculiar  to  August,  and  the  little  force, 
loaded  with  armor,  weapons,  and  knapsacks,  found  them- 
selves much  distressed  by  the  humid  heat.  Reaching  a 
sheltered  spot  about  a mile  from  Namasket,  Standish 
resolved  to  remain  there  until  dark,  giving  the  men 
opportunity  for  rest  and  refreshment,  and  trusting  to 
the  storm  and  the  night  to  cover  his  attack  upon  a foe 
ten  times  his  own  number. 

As  darkness  closed  in  upon  the  encampment,  the 
captain  roused  himself  from  a soldier’s  nap,  and  briefly 
ordered,  — 

“ Eat  what  provisions  you  have  left  in  your  knap- 


272 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


sacks,  men,  and  empty  your  flasks.  Then  pile  and 
leave  both  beside  this  rock.  Those  of  us  who  are  alive 
in  the  morning  will  subsist  upon  the  enemy.  Those 
who  are  not  will  feel  no  lack.” 

Soon  after  dark  the  little  troop  set  forth,  but  Hobo- 
mok, deceived  by  the  darkness  and  the  rain,  missed  the 
route,  and  for  three  weary  hours  the  men  floundered 
around  in  the  dripping  forest,  the  guide  wisely  keeping 
out  of  the  captain’s  reach,  until  in  a gleam  of  watery 
moonlight  Winslow  recognized  a peculiar  clump  of 
trees  which  he  had  noticed  upon  his  late  journey  with 
Hopkins  to  visit  Massasoit ; and  Hobomok  recovering 
from  his  bewilderment  led  the  way  as  fast  as  the  men 
could  follow  him,  until  in  the  edge  of  a large  clearing 
he  paused,  and  pointing  to  a detached  hut  whispered,  — 
“ Corbitant  sleep  there.” 

“Now  God  be  praised  that  there  is  a chance  of  fight- 
ing rather  than  floundering  ! ” piously  exclaimed  Stan- 
dish,  and  with  brief  exact  phrases  he  proceeded  to  set 
the  battle  in  array.  Eight  men  were  to  silently  sur- 
round the  house,  their  pieces  ready,  and  their  orders  to 
cut  down  if  necessary  any  who  should  attempt  to  escape 
from  the  house.  Standish  and  Winslow,  followed  by 
Hobomok,  marched  meantime  straight  into  a hut,  and 
the  captain  in  a loud  voice  demanded,  — 

“ Where  is  Corbitant  ? Give  him  up  and  no  one  else 
shall  be  harmed ! ” 

A moment  of  panic-stricken  silence  ensued,  and  then 
through  the  darkness  was  heard  the  indefinite  rustling 
sound  of  living  creatures  seeking  covertly  to  escape  from 
an  enclosure. 

“ Look  to  it,  outside  ! ” shouted  Standish.  “ Let  no 
man  pass  your  guard!  Hobomok,  tell  them  that  wo 


A LITTLE  DISCIPLINE . 273 

will  harm  none  if  they  give  up  Corbitant  and  those  who 
helped  him  to  murder  Tisquantum ! ” 

But  the  hubbub  increased  momently,  and  presently  a 
shout  of  “ Back  ! Back ! ” from  without  was  followed 
by  a loud  shriek  in  a woman’s  voice. 

“ Fools ! ” roared  Standish  in  the  native  tongue. 
“Keep  still.  Stay  in  the  house.  We  hurt  none  but 
Corbitant ! ” 

Yet  still  the  tumult  grew ; the  savages  trusting  no 
promises,  endeavored  to  escape  through  the  various 
openings  of  the  wigwam,  and  although  the  sentinels 
were  as  careful  as  possible,  and  heartily  desirous  of 
avoiding  bloodshed,  several  of  the  Indians  were  more 
or  less  hurt,  while  the  half-grown  boys  perceiving  the 
immunity  of  the  women  from  harm,  ran  from  one  door 
to  the  other  crying  out,  — 

“ Neen  squaes  ! Neen  squaes  ! ” (I  am  a girl ! I am  a 
girl!) 

The  women  also  hung  around  Hobomok,  pulling  at  his 
hands  and  clothing,  for  attention,  while  they  shrieked, 
“ Oh  Hobomok,  I am  thy  friend ! Thou  knowest  I am 
thy  friend ! ” 

Winslow  meantime  had  stirred  up  the  embers  of  a 
fire  near  the  doorway  of  the  hut,  and  the  flame  leaping 
out  cast  a wild  and  fitful  glare  over  the  scene,  in  the 
midst  of  which  Hobomok,  climbing  the  stout  pole  in 
the  centre  of  the  cabin,  thrust  his  head  through  the 
smoke-hole  at  the  top,  and  after  emitting  a hideous 
war-whoop  shouted  the  names  of  Tisquantum  and  Tock- 
amahamon  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  for  one  of  the  women 
had  assured  him  that  the  former  was  alive,  and  that 
Corbitant  was  already  many  miles  on  his  homeward 
way. 


274 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Not  two  minutes  had  elapsed,  when  an  answering 
whoop  was  heard  from  the  cluster  of  huts  forming  the 
village  of  Namasket,  now  the  town  of  Middleboro’,  and 
an  irregular  stream  of  warriors,  headed  by  Tisquantum 
in  person,  came  running  toward  the  beleaguered  hut. 

The  struggle  was  now  over,  for  so  soon  as  the  casus 
belli  was  disproved  by  Squanto’s  appearance,  the  cap- 
ture of  Corbitant  was  no  longer  desirable,  and  Standish 
ordered  his  men  to  sheathe  their  swords  and  release 
their  prisoners.  Those  who  had  been  wounded  by  per- 
sisting in  trying  to  escape  were  attended  to  by  Surgeon 
Fuller,  and  by  Standish’s  invitation  returned  to  Plym- 
outh with  their  friendly  conquerors  to  receive  a certain 
amount  of  petting  by  way  of  compensation  for  their 
wounds,  although  the  captain  did  not  fail  to  point  out 
that  if  they  had  believed  and  obeyed  him,  they  need 
not  have  been  hurt  at  all. 

Tisquantum  shrewdly  flattered  at  the  importance  set 
upon  his  life  by  his  white  friends,  seated  himself  with 
them  around  the  new-fed  fire,  and  with  much  gesticu- 
lation and  flowery  forms  of  speech  related  how,  by  his 
combined  prowess  and  subtlety,  he  had  forced  Corbitant 
to  release  him,  and  finally  to  leave  Namasket  with  his 
warriors,  not,  however,  without  hideous  threats  of  what 
should  befall  that  village  if  it  persisted  in  an  alliance 
with  the  white  men,  who  were  soon  to  be  exterminated 
with  all  their  friends. 

“ Ha  ! We  will  send  an  embassage  to  this  haughty 
sachem,  with  some  counter  promises  and  warnings,”  ex- 
claimed Standish  in  hearing  this  part  of  the  report ; and 
at  the  last  moment,  before  the  little  army  with  its  cap- 
tives left  the  place  upon  the  following  morning,  a runner 
was  dispatched  to  follow  Corbitant,  and  assure  him  from 


A LITTLE  DISCIPLINE . 


275 


The-Svvord-of- the- White-Men,  as  Standish  now  began  to 
be  called  among  the  Indians,  that  unless  Massasoit 
returned  in  safety  from  the  country  of  the  Narragan- 
eetts,  whither  he  had  been  beguiled,  the  death  of  the 
great  sachem  should  be  visited  upon  Corbitant  and  all 
his  tribe  to  the  uttermost,  and  that  if  anything  more 
was  heard  of  sedition  and  treachery  as  preached  either 
among  the  Namaskets  or  elsewhere,  Corbitant  should 
find  that  no  distance  and  no  concealment  should  avail 
to  save  him  from  punishment. 

The  message  was  duly  delivered,  and  so  convincing 
did  its  terrors,  combined  with  the  prompt  action  of  the 
white  men  prove,  that  various  sachems  who  had  hitherto 
held  aloof,  even  those  of  the  Isles  of  Capawack,  now 
called  Martha’s  Vineyard,  sent  to  beg  for  a treaty  of 
peace  and  mutual  support ; and  in  the  end  Corbitant 
prayed  the  kind  offices  of  Massasoit,  now  restored  to 
his  kingdom,  to  make  his  submission  to  the  white  men. 

But  though  so  fair  in  outward  seeming,  this  peace 
was  but  a hollow  one,  and  one  more  lesson  was  needed 
before  the  Indians  became  in  very  truth  the  friends  and 
allies  of  the  white  men. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


THE  FIRST  THANKSGIVING  DAY  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

“ Oh  Priscilla,  girl,  what  thinkst  thou  is  toward 
now  ? ” demanded  Mary  Chilton,  running  down  to  the 
spring  where  her  friend  was  sprinkling  and  turning  a 
piece  of  coarse  linen  spun  and  woven  by  her  own  hands 
for  domestic  use  ; but  straightening  herself  at  the  merry 
summons,  her  dark  eyes  lighted  with  animation  as  she 
responded  in  the  same  tone,  — 

u The  governor  is  fain  to  marry  thee,  and  the  elder 
is  ready  to  give  his  blessing.  Is ’t  so  ? ” 

“ Thou  foolish  girl ! It ’s  not  at  me  Master  Bradford 
looks  oftenest,  not  nigh  as  often  as  the  captain  looks  at 
thee,  nay  but  John  Alden 99  — 

“ What  is  it ! What ’s  thy  news  ! Speak  quick  or 
I 'll  sprinkle  thee  rather  than  the  linen ! 99  and  raising 
the  wooden  dipper  Priscilla  whirled  it  so  rapidly  round 
her  head  that  not  a drop  was  spilled,  while  Mary 
shrieking  and  laughing  darted  back  and  crouched  be- 
hind an  alder  bush. 

“ Maids  ! Maids ! Whence  this  unseemly  mirth  ! 
Know  ye  not  that  the  laughter  of  fools  is  like  the  crack- 
ling of  thorns  under  the  pot,  a sure  sign  of  the  fire  they 
are  hasting  to  ? The  devil  goeth  about  like  a roaring 
lion ” — 

“ Sometimes  methinks  he  seemeth  more  like  an  ass,” 
murmured  Priscilla  in  Mary’s  ear,  setting  her  off  into 


THE  FIRST  THANKSGIVING  DAY.  277 


convulsions  of  repressed  laughter,  while  her  naughty 
tormentor  looked  demurely  up  the  bank  to  the  angular 
figure  defined  against  the  evening  sky  and  said,  — 

“ We  are  beholden  to  you  for  the  admonition,  Master 
Allerton,  and  it  must  be  a marvelous  comfort  to  you 
that  Mary  and  Remember  Allerton  weep  so  much  of- 
tener  than  they  laugh.” 

“ I would,  thou  froward  wench,  that  I had  the  train- 
ing of  thee  for  a while.  Mayhap  thou  wouldst  find 
cause  for  weeping  ” — 

“ Nay,  I ’m  sure  on ’t.  The  very  thought  well-nigh 
makes  me  weep  now,”  retorted  Priscilla  blithely,  as  the 
sour-visaged  Councilor  went  on  his  way,  and  Mary  half 
frightened,  half  delighted,  came  forward  saying,  — 

“ Oh  Priscilla,  how  dost  thou  dare  flout  Master  Aller- 
ton in  that  style  ! He  ’ll  have  thee  before  the  Church.” 
“ Not  he  ! ” replied  Priscilla  coolly.  “ Hist  now,  pop- 
pet, and  I ’ll  tell  thee  something  — thou  ’It  not  repeat  it 
though  ? ” 

“ Not  I,”  replied  Mary  stoutly. 

“ Well,  then,  dost  think  I should  make  a fitting  step- 
dame  for  Bartholomew  and  Mary  and  Remember  ? ” 

“ Dost  mean  ” — 

“ Ay  do  I,  just  that.  And  because  I could  not  but 
laugh  merrily  at  the  notion  when ’t  was  placed  before 
me  last  Sunday  night,  the  Assistant  looketh  sourly 
enough  but  dareth  not  meddle  with  me  lest  I make 
others  laugh  as  well  as  myself.” 

u Priscilla ! Mary ! ” called  Elizabeth  Tilley’s  voice 
from  the  doorstep.  “ Mistress  Brewster  would  have 
you  in  to  see  about  noon-meat.” 

“ But  thy  news,  poppet,  quick  ! ” exclaimed  Priscilla 
as  gathering  up  her  gear  she  slowly  led  the  way  up  the 
hill. 


278 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“Why,  the  governor  hath  resolved  upon  a day,  or 
rather  a week,  of  holiday  and  of  thanksgiving  for  the 
mercies  God  hath  showed  us.  Think  of  it,  Pris  ! A 
whole  week  of  feasting  and  holiday  ! ” 

“ Hm ! ” dryly  responded  Priscilla.  “ It  sounds  well 
enow,  but  who  is  to  make  ready  this  feasting  ? ” 

“ Why  — all  of  us  — and  chiefly  you,  dear  wench,  for 
none  can  season  a delicate  dish  or  ” — 

“ Ay,  ay,  I know  that  song  full  well ; but  dost  really 
think,  Molly,  that  to  do  a good  deal  more,  and  a good 
deal  harder  cooking  than  our  wont,  will  be  so  very 
sprightly  a holiday  ? ” 

“ But  ’t  will  be  doing  our  part  to  make  holiday  for 
the  others,”  replied  Mary  simply. 

“ Now,  then,  if  thou  ’rt  not  at  thy  old  tricks  of  sham- 
ing my  selfish  frowardness ! 99  exclaimed  Priscilla,  and 
laughing  they  entered  the  house  where  all  the  women  of  the 
community  were  assembled  in  eager  debate  over  their 
share  in  the  approaching  festival. 

“ The  governor  hath  already  ordered  my  man,  with 
Dotey  and  Soule  and  Latham,  to  go  afield  to-morrow 
with  their  guns,  and  to  spend  two  days  in  gathering 
game,”  announced  Helen  Billington  with  an  air  of  im- 
portance. 

“ And  it  was  determined  to  invite  King  Massasoit 
and  his  train  to  the  feast,”  eagerly  added  Mistress 
Winslow,  who,  with  her  baby  Peregrine  White  in  her 
arms,  had  run  across  the  street  to  join  the  council. 

“ Methinks  another  party  should  go  to  the  beach  to 
dig  clams,”  suggested  Dame  Hopkins.  “ For  though  not 
so  toothsome  as  venison  and  birds  ’tis  a prey  more 
surely  to  be  come  by.” 

“ The  elder  saith  the  God  of  Jacob  sendeth  us  the 


THE  FIRST  THANKSGIVING  DAY . 279 


clams  as  he  did  manna  to  those  other  children  of  his  in 
the  desert,”  added  the  weak  sweet  voice  of  the  elder’s 
wife.  “ At  morning  and  at  night  we  may  gather  them 
in  certainty.” 

“ But  they  hold  not  sweet  over  Sunday,  that  is  if  the 
day  be  hot,”  suggested  Desire  Minter  ruefully. 

“ And  Priscilla  we  shall  look  to  thee  for  marchpanes 
and  manchets  and  plum  - porridge  and  possets  and  all 
manner  of  tasty  cates,  such  as  only  thou  canst  make,” 
said  the  dame  hastily,  and  fixing  her  eyes  upon  the 
girl’s  face  as  if  to  hinder  any  irreverent  laughter  at  De-« 
sire’s  speech. 

“ All  that  I can  do  I will  do  blithely  and  steadfastly 
if  it  will  pleasure  you,  mother,”  replied  Priscilla  gently, 
as  she  knelt  down  beside  the  invalid  and  rested  against 
the  arm  of  that  old  chair  which  you  may  see  to-day  rev- 
erently preserved  in  Plymouth. 

“ I know  thou  wilt,  sweetheart,”  replied  the  dame 
laying  her  frail  hand  upon  the  girl’s  abundant  hair. 
“ But  I fear  me  our  men  cannot  dine  to-day  on  the 
promise  of  the  coming  feast.” 

“ Well  thought  on,  mother.  Come  maids  to  work,  to 
work ! ” 

That  same  afternoon  Squanto  was  dispatched  to  Na- 
masket  to  send  from  thence  a runner  to  Massasoit  invit- 
ing him,  with  his  brother  and  a fitting  escort,  to  the 
feast  of  Thanksgiving  now  fixed  for  the  following  Thurs- 
day; and  so  cordially  did  the  great  sachem  respond, 
that  about  sunrise  on  the  appointed  day  the  laggards  of 
the  settlement  were  aroused  by  the  terrific  whoop  and 
succession  of  unearthly  shrieks  with  which  the  guests 
announced  at  once  their  arrival  and  their  festive  and 
playful  condition  of  mind 


280 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Three  of  the  leaders  were  ready  even  at  this  hour  to 
receive  the  over  punctual  guests : the  elder,  who  had 
risen  early  to  prepare  a few  brief  remarks  suited  to  the 
occasion ; Standish,  who  was  always  afoot  to  fire  his  sun- 
rise gun  ; and  Bradford,  who  valued  the  quiet  morning 
hour  in  which  he  might  allow  his  mind  to  dwell  upon 
those  abstruse  and  profound  subjects  so  dear  to  his 
heart,  and  yet  never  allowed  to  intrude  upon  the  busi- 
ness of  the  working  day.  So,  while  Winslow  with  his 
wife’s  assistance  did  on  his  more  festive  doublet  and 
hose,  and  Allerton  spake  bitter  words  to  Remember  who 
had  forgotten  to  replace  the  button  that  should  hold  her 
father’s  collar  in  place,  and  gentle  Warren,  the  gruff 
Surgeon,  and  the  rest  made  ready  as  they  might,  these 
three  stood  forth  to  receive  Massasoit  and  Quadequina, 
who  with  a dozen  or  so  of  their  principal  pnieses  came 
forward  with  considerable  dignity,  and  through  Squanto 
and  Hobomok  made  their  compliments  in  truly  regal 
style,  while  their  followers  to  the  number  of  about 
ninety  men  with  a few  women  remained  modestly  in  the 
background. 

Presently  when  the  village  was  well  afoot,  and  a big 
fire  started  between  the  elder’s  house  and  the  brook  for 
cooking  purposes,  the  roll  of  the  drum  announced  the 
morning  prayers,  with  which  the  Pilgrims  began  every 
day,  and  more  especially  this  Feast  of  Thanksgiving. 
The  Indians  stood  reverently  around,  Massasoit  explain- 
ing in  low  gutturals  to  a chieftain  who  had  never  visited 
Plymouth  before,  that  the  white  men  thus  propitiated 
the  Great  Spirit,  and  engaged  Him  both  to  prosper 
them  and  kill  their  enemies. 

Prayers  ended,  Priscilla  with  her  attendants  flew 
back  to  the  fire,  and  presently  a long  table  spread  in 


THE  FIRST  THANKSGIVING  DAY.  281 


the  open  air  for  the  men  was  covered  with  great  wooden 
bowls  full  of  what  a later  generation  named  hasty-pud- 
ding,  to  be  eaten  with  butter  and  treacle,  for  milk  was 
not  to  be  had  for  more  than  one  year  to  come.  Other 
bowls  contained  an  excellent  clam  chowder  with  plenty 
of  sea  biscuit  swimming  in  the  savory  broth,  while  great 
pieces  of  cold  boiled  beef  with  mustard,  flanked  by 
dishes  of  turnips,  offered  solid  resistance  to  those  who 
so  joyfully  attacked  them. 

Another  table  in  the  Common  house  offered  somewhat 
more  delicate  food  to  the  women  and  children,  chief 
among  it  a great  pewter  bowl  of  plum  - porridge  with 
bits  of  toasted  cracker  floating  upon  it. 

The  meal  was  a rude  one  looked  upon  with  the  dainty 
eyes  and  languid  appetites  of  to-day,  but  to  those  sturdy 
and  heroic  men  and  women  it  was  a veritable  feast,  and 
at  its  close  Quadequina  with  an  amiable  smile  nodded 
to  one  of  his  attendants,  who  produced  and  poured  upon 
the  table  something  like  a bushel  of  popped  corn,  — a 
dainty  hitherto  unseen  and  unknown  by  most  of  the 
Pilgrims. 

All  tasted,  and  John  Howland  hastily  gathering  up  a 
portion  upon  a wooden  plate  carried  it  to  the  Common 
house  for  the  delectation  of  the  women,  that  is  to  sayt 
for  Elizabeth  Tilley,  whose  firm  young  teeth  craunched 
it  with  much  gusto. 

Breakfast  over,  with  a grace  after  meat  that  amounted 
to  another  service,  the  governor  announced  that  some 
military  exercises  under  the  direction  of  Captain  Stan- 
dish  would  now  take  place,  and  the  guests  were  invited 
to  seat  themselves  in  the  vicinity  of  a fire  kindled  on 
the  ground  at  the  northerly  part  of  the  village  about  at 
the  head  of  Middle  Street,  and  designed  more  as  a com* 


282 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


mon  centre  and  social  feature  than  for  need  since  the 
weather  was  mild  and  lovely,  so  peculiarly  so  that  when 
it  recurred  the  next  November  and  the  next,  the  people 
remembering  that  first  feast  said,  “ Why,  here  is  the 
Indians’  summer  again ! ” But  on  that  day  the  only 
thought  was  that  God  accepted  their  thanksgiving  and 
smiled  His  approval. 

Hardly  had  the  guests  comprehended  the  announce- 
ment and  placed  themselves  in  order,  when  a wild  fan- 
fare of  trumpets,  an  imposing  roll  of  drums  was  heard 
from  the  vicinity  of  the  Fort,  and  down  the  hill  in  orderly 
array  marched  the  little  army  of  nineteen  men,  preceded 
by  the  military  band  and  led  by  their  doughty  Captain. 
Above  their  heads  floated  the  banner  of  Old  England, 
and  beneath  their  corselets  beat  true  English  hearts  ; and 
yet  here  stood  the  nucleus  of  that  power  which  a century 
and  a half  later  was  to  successfully  defy  and  throw  off 
the  rule  of  that  magnificent  but  cruel  stepdame ; here 
stood  the  first  American  army ; and  then,  as  since,  that 
score  of  determined  souls  struck  terror  into  the  hearts 
of  five  times  their  number. 

“ If  they  have  beguiled  us  here  to  destroy  us ! ” mur- 
mured Quadequina  in  his  brother’s  ear. 

“ Canst  not  tell  an  eagle  from  a carrion-crow  ? ” re- 
turned the  wiser  man.  “ Would  Winsnow,  or  The-Sword, 
or  the  Chief,  or  the  powah,  do  this  ? Peace,  my  brother.” 

But  as  the  military  manoeuvres  accompanied  with 
frequent  discharges  of  musketry,  and  accented  at  one 
point  with  a tremendous  roar  from  the  cannon  of  the 
Fort  progressed,  not  only  Quadequina,  but  many  other  of 
the  braves  became  very  uneasy ; and  to  this  cause  as  well 
as  benevolence,  may  be  attributed  the  offer  made  at  din- 
ner time  by  Quadequina  to  lead  a hunting  party  of  his 


THE  FIRST  THANKSGIVING  DAY . 283 


own  people  into  the  woods  to  look  for  deer,  whose 
haunts  they  well  knew. 

Standish  alone  suspected  this  arriere  pensee , and 
when  Bradford  mildly  applauded  the  generous  kindness 
of  their  guests,  he  answered  with  a chuckle,  — 

“ Ay,  as  kind  as  the  traveler  who  begs  the  highway- 
man to  let  him  go  home  and  fetch  a larger  treasure.” 
But  in  spite  of  his  doubts  the  prince  intended  and 
made  a bond  fide  hunt,  and  returned  early  in  the  next 
day  with  as  much  venison  as  lasted  the  entire  company 
four  days. 

“ Oh,  if  I had  but  some  Spanish  chestnuts  to  stuff 
these  turkeys,  they  might  seem  more  like  their  brethren 
across  the  seas,”  exclaimed  Priscilla  as  she  turned  over 
a pile  of  the  wild  birds  and  chose  those  to  be  first  cooked. 

“ Nay,  but  to  me  the  flavor  is  better,  and  the  meat 
more  succulent  of  these  than  of  any  I ever  saw  at  home,” 
replied  John  Alden.  “ And  the  size  ! Do  but  look  at 
this  fellow,  he  will  scale  well-nigh  twenty  pound  if  an 
ounce.” 

“ If ’t  were  a goose  I would  name  it  John,  ’t  would  be 
so  prodigious  a goose,”  replied  Priscilla  with  a glance 
so  saucy  and  so  bewitching  that  her  adorer  forgot  to 
reply,  and  she  went  briskly  on,  — 

“ Come  now,  young  man,  there ’s  much  to  do  and 
rfcant  time  to  talk  of  it.  Call  me  some  of  those  gaping 
boys  yonder  and  let  them  pluck  these  fowl,  and  bid 
John  Billington  come  and  break  up  these  deer.  And  I 
must  have  wood  and  water  galore  to  make  meat  for 
a hundred  men.  Stir  thyself  ! ” 

“ I was  thinking,  Priscilla  * — why  not  stuff  the  turkeys 
with  beechnuts?  There  is  store  of  them  up  at  ouj 
cottage.” 


284 


STANDI SE  OF  STAN  DISH. 


“ How  came  they  there  ? Doth  our  doughty  Captain 
go  birds-nesting  and  nutting  in  his  by-times  ? ” 

“ Nay,  but  I did,  that  is,  I gathered  the  nuts  for  thee, 
and  then  — then  feared  if  I offered  them  thou  ’dst  only 
flout  me  ” — 

“ Oh,  sure  never  was  a poor  maid  so  bestead  with  blind 
men  — well,  fetch  thy  beechnuts.” 

“ Nay,  Priscilla,  but  blind,  blind  ? How  then  am  I 
blind,  maiden,  say  ? ” 

“ Why,  not  to  have  discovered  ere  this  how  I dote 
upon  beechnuts.  There,  get  thee  gone  for  them.,, 

The  dressing  of  beechnuts  proved  a rare  success,  hut 
the  preparation  proved  so  long  a process  that  only  the 
delicate  young  bird  made  ready  for  the  table  where 
Mistress  Brewster  presided  was  thus  honored,  although 
in  after  times  Priscilla  often  made  what  she  called 
goose-dressing ; and  when  a few  years  later  some  sweet 
potatoes  were  brought  to  Plymouth  from  the  Carolinas, 
she  at  once  adopted  them  for  the  same  purpose. 

And  so  the  festival  went  on  for  its  appointed  length 
of  three  days,  and  perhaps  the  hearty  fellowship  and 
good  will  manifested  by  the  white  men  toward  their 
guests,  and  their  determination  to  meet  them  on  the 
ground  of  common  interests  and  sympathies,  went  quite 
as  far  as  their  evident  superiority  in  arms  and  resoiirces 
toward  establishing  the  deep-founded  and  highly  valued 
peace,  without  which  the  handful  of  white  men  could 
never  have  made  good  their  footing  upon  that  stern  and 
sterile  coast. 

On  the  Saturday  the  feast  was  closed  by  a state  din- 
ner whose  composition  taxed  Priscilla  as  head  cook  to 
the  limit  of  her  resources,  and  with  flushed  cheek  and 
knitted  brow  she  moved  about  among  her  willing  assis* 


THE  FIRST  THANKSGIVING  DAY . 285 


tants  with  all  the  importance  of  a Bechamel,  a Felix, 
the  maitre-d? hotel  of  Cardinal  Fesch  with  his  two  tur- 
bots, or  luckless  Vatel  who  fell  upon  his  sword  and  died 
because  he  bad  no  turbot  at  all ; or  even,  rising  in  the 
grandeur  of  the  comparison,  we  may  liken  her  to  Do- 
mitian,  who.  weary  of  persecuting  Christians,  one  day 
called  the  Roman  Senate  together  to  decide  with  him 
upon  the  sauce  with  which  another  historic  turbot  should 
be  dressed. 

Some  late  arrivals  among  the  Indians  had  that  morn, 
ing  brought  in  several  large  baskets  of  the  delicious 
oysters  for  which  Wareham  is  still  famous,  and  although 
it  was  an  unfamiliar  delicacy  to  her,  Priscilla,  remem- 
bering a tradition  brought  from  Ostend  to  Leyden  by 
some  travelers,  compounded  these  with  biscuit-crumbs, 
spices,  and  wine,  and  was  looking  about  for  an  iron  pan 
wherein  to  bake  them,  when  Elizabeth  Tilley  brought 
forward  some  great  clam  and  scallop  shells  which  John 
Howland  had  presented  to  her,  just  as  now  a young 
man  might  offer  a unique  Sbvres  tea-set  to  the  lady  of 
his  love. 

‘‘Wouldn't  it  do  to  fill  these  with  thy  oyster  com- 
pote, and  so  set  them  in  the  ashes  to  roast?”  inquired 
she.  “ Being  many  they  can  be  laid  at  every  man's 
place  at  table.” 

“Why,  'tis  a noble  idea,  child,”  exclaimed  Priscilla 
eagerly.  “ 'T  will  be  a novelty,  and  will  set  off  the 
board  famously.  Say  you  not  so,  J ohn  ? ” 

“ Ay,”  returned  Alden,  who  was  busily  opening  the 
oysters  at  her  side.  “ And  more  by  token  there  is  a 
magnificence  in  the  idea  that  thou  hast  not  thought  on ; 
for  as  at  a great  man's  table  the  silver  dishes  each  bear 
the  crest  of  his  arms,  so  we  being  Pilgrims  and  thus 


286 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


privileged  to  wear  the  scallop  shell  in  our  hats,  do  rather 
choose  to  display  it  upon  our  board.,, 

“ Ah,  John,  thou  hast  an  excellent  wit  — in  some 
things/’  replied  Priscilla  with  a half  sigh  which  set  the 
young  fellow  wondering  for  an  hour. 

By  noon  the  long  tables  were  spread,  and  still  the 
sweet  warm  air  of  the  “ Indian  Summer  ” made  the  out- 
of-door  feast  not  only  possible  but  charming,  for  the 
gauzy  veil  upon  the  distant  forest,  and  the  marine  hori- 
zon, and  the  curves  of  Captain’s  Hill,  seemed  to  shut  in 
this  little  scene  from  all  the  world  of  turmoil  and  dan- 
ger and  fatigue,  while  the  thick  yellow  sunshine  filtered 
through  with  just  warmth  enough  for  comfort,  and  the 
sighing  southerly  breeze  brought  wafts  of  perfume  from 
the  forest,  and  bore  away,  as  it  wandered  northward, 
the  peals  of  laughter,  the  merry  yet  discreet  songs,  and 
the  multitudinous  hum  of  blithe  voices,  Saxon  and  sav- 
age, male  and  female,  adult  and  childish,  that  filled  the 
dreamy  air. 

The  oysters  in  their  scallop  shells  were  a singular 
success,  and  so  were  the  mighty  venison  pasties,  and  the 
savory  stew  compounded  of  all  that  flies  the  air,  and  all 
that  flies  the  hunter  in  Plymouth  woods,  no  longer  fly- 
ing now  but  swimming  in  a glorious  broth  cunningly  sea- 
soned by  Priscilla’s  anxious  hand,  and  thick  bestead 
with  dumplings  of  barley  flour,  light,  toothsome,  and 
satisfying.  Beside  these  were  roasts  of  various  kinds, 
and  thin  cakes  of  bread  or  manchets,  and  bowls  of  salad 
set  off  with  wreaths  of  autumn  leaves  laid  around  them, 
and  great  baskets  of  grapes,  white  and  purple,  and  of 
the  native  plum,  so  delicious  when  fully  ripe  in  its  three 
colors  of  black,  white,  and  red.  With  these  were  plen- 
tif  A flagons  of  ale,  for  already  the  housewives  had  laid 


THE  FIRST  THANKSGIVING  DAY . 287 


down  the  first  brewing  of  the  native  brand,  and  had 
moreover  learned  of  the  Indians  to  concoct  a beverage 
akin  to  what  is  now  called  root  beer,  well  flavored  with 
sassafras,  of  which  the  Pilgrims  had  been  glad  to  find 
good  store  since  it  brought  a great  price  in  the  English 
market. 

It  was  during  the  last  half  hour  of  this  feast  that 
Desire  Minter,  who  with  the  other  girls  served  the  tables 
where  the  men  sat  at  meat,  placed  a little  silver  cup  at 
Captain  Standish’s  right  hand  saying,  — 

“ Priscilla  sends  you  some  shrub,  kind  sir,  of  her  own 
composition,  and  prays  you  drink  her  health.” 

“ Why,  then,  ’t  is  kind  of  her  who  hath  been  most 
unkind  of  late,”  returned  Myles,  upon  whose  seasoned 
brain  the  constant  potations  of  three  days  had  wrought 
to  lull  suspicion  and  reserve,  and  taking  the  cup  he 
tossed  off  its  contents  at  a draught,  and  rising  bowed 
toward  Priscilla  who  was  flitting  in  and  out  among  the 
tables.  She  returned  the  salute  with  a little  air  of  sur- 
prise, and  Myles  reseating  himself  turned  to  question 
Desire  again,  but  she  had  departed  carrying  the  cup 
with  her. 

“ Nay,  then,  I ’ll  be  toyed  with  no  longer,”  muttered 
the  Captain  angrily,  and  although  he  bore  his  part  in 
the  closing  ceremonies  with  which  the  governor  bade 
a cordial  and  even  affectionate  farewell  to  the  king,  the 
prince,  their  nobles,  and  their  following,  there  was  a 
glint  in  his  eye  and  a set  to  his  lips  that  would  have 
told  one  who  knew  him  well  that  the  spirit  of  the  man 
was  roused  and  not  lightly  to  be  laid  to  rest  again. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


A LOVE  PHILTRE. 

The  last  pniese  had  made  his  uncouth  obeisance  and 
departed,  and  busy  hands  were  removing  all  signs  of 
the  late  commotion  in  haste  that  the  setting  sun  should 
find  the  village  ready  for  its  Sunday  rest  and  peace, 
when  Myles  Standish  suddenly  presented  himself  before 
Priscilla  Molines  as  she  came  up  from  the  spring  with 
a pile  of  wooden  trenchers  in  her  hands. 

“ Mistress  Molines  a word  with  you,”  began  he  with 
an  unconscious  imperiousness  that  at  once  aroused  the 
girl’s  rebellious  spirit. 

“Nay,  Captain,  I am  not  of  your  train  band,  and 
your  business  must  await  my  pleasure  and  convenience. 
Now,  I am  over  busy.” 

“ Nay,  then,  if  I spoke  amiss  I crave  your  pardon, 
mistress,  and  had  we  more  time  I would  beat  my  brains 
for  some  of  the  flowery  phrases  I used  to  hear  among 
the  court  gallants  who  came  to  learn  war  in  Flanders. 
But  I also  have  business  almost  as  weighty  as  thine  and 
as  little  able  to  brook  delay.  So  I pray  you  of  your 
courtesy  to  set  down  your  platters  on  this  clean  sod, 
and  listen  patiently  to  me  for  a matter  of  five  minutes.” 

“ I am  listening,  sir.” 

“ Nay,  put  down  the  platters  or  let  me  put  them 
down.” 

“ There  then,  and  glad  am  I”  — 


A LOVE  PHILTRE . 


289 


“ Of  what,  mistress  ? ” 

“ That  I ’m  not  often  under  thy  orders,  sir.” 

“ Ah  ! But  we  ’ll  waste  no  time  in  skirmishing,  fair 
enemy.  Tell  me  rather  what  didst  mean  by  the  loving- 
cup  thou  sendst  me  ? May  I take  it  sooth  and  truly  as 
relenting  on  thy  part  ? ” 

“ I send  you  a loving-cup,  sir ! ” exclaimed  the  girl, 
her  eyes  flashing,  and  her  color  rising. 

“ Yes.  Call  it  by  what  name  you  will ; I mean  the 
cup  Desire  Minter  brought  me  from  thee,  with  a mes- 
sage that  I should  drink  thy  health.” 

“ Loth  were  I to  think,  Captain  Standish,  that  you 
would  willfully  insult  a maid  with  none  to  defend  her, 
and  so  I will  charitably  suppose  that  you  have  been 
forced  to  drink  too  many  healths  to  guard  well  thine 
own.  Good  e’en,  sir.” 

“ Now  by  the  God  that  made  us  both,  wench,  I ’ll  have 
an  end  of  this.  Nay,  not  one  step  dost  thou  stir  until 
you  or  I are  laid  in  a lie.” 

“ A lie,  Captain  Standish ! ” 

“ Mayhap  my  own  lie.  I say  that  Desire  Minter 
brought  me  a silver  cup  of  some  sweet  posset,  such  as 
you  have  made  for  our  sick  folk  time  and  again,  and 
bade  me  from  you  quaff  it  to  your  health.” 

“ And  that  is  God’s  truth,  say  you,  sir  ? ” 

“ Mistress  Molines,  my  word  has  not  often  been 
doubted,  and  you  force  me  to  remind  you  that  I come 
not  of  mechanical  ” — 

“Nay,  nay,  stop  there,  an’  it  please  you,  sir!  We’ll 
unwind  this  coil  before  we  snarl  another.  Fear  not 
that  my  base  mechanical  blood  shall  ever  sully  your 
noble  strain  ; but  mean  though  I be,  my  habit  is  a toler- 
ably truthful  one,  and  I tell  you  once  and  for  all  that 


290 


STAND1SH  OF  STANDISH. 


I sent  you  no  cup,  I made  you  no  posset,  I desired  no 
health  drunk  by  you.” 

“ Nay,  then,  what  hath  this  girl  Desire  wrought  ? And 
truth  to  tell  Priscilla,  I fear  me ’t  is  poison,  for  a shrewd 
pain  seizeth  me  ever  and  anon,  and  a strange  heaviness 
is  in  my  head.” 

“ And  there ’s  a sultry  color  on  your  cheek  — nay, 
then,  we  ’ll  see  the  surgeon  ” — 

“ And  thou  ’It  forgive  whatever  I have  said  amiss, 
Priscilla,  for  mayhap  I ’ll  trouble  thee  no  more.  Like 
enough  she  hath  revenged  herself  ” — 

“ For  your  scorn  of  her  love,”  interposed  Priscilla  vi- 
vaciously. “Like  enough,  like  enough.  Come  to  the 
house,  Captain,  and  let  us  take  counsel  with  the  dear 
mother.  She  still  knows  best.” 

“ Go  thou,  Priscilla.  It  hardly  beseems  a man  and  a 
soldier  to  seek  redress  for  a wench’s  love  scratch  at  the 
hands  of  an  old  woman  — nay,  nay,  fire  not  up  afresh  ! 
No  one  can  honor  Mistress  Brewster  more  than  I do, 
but  tell  me,  is  she  a man  or  is  she  young  ? Sooth  now, 
Priscilla ! ” 

“ And  still  in  thy  masterful  mood  thou  It  have  the 
last  word,  doughty  Captain.  But  go  you  home,  then, 
and  bid  John  Alden  make  a fire  and  heat  a good  kettle 
of  water,  and  I ’ll  away  to  the  mother  who  will  deal 
with  Desire  in  short  measure.” 

“ ’T  is  good  counsel  and  I ’ll  follow  it,  for  in  sober 
sadness  I feel  strangely  amiss.”  And  the  soldier,  who 
now  was  as  livid  as  he  had  been  flushed,  strode  away  up 
the  hill,  while  Priscilla  picking  up  the  trenchers  fled  like 
a lapwing  into  the  house  where  she  found  Desire  seated 
sullenly  in  a corner,  while  the  elder,  his  wife,  and  the 
governor  were  gathered  together  near  the  fire  eozily 


A LOVE  PHILTRE . 


291 


discussing  the  events  of  the  day.  Standing  before  them 
and  restraining  her  natural  vivacity  that  it  might  not 
discredit  the  importance  of  her  story,  Priscilla  in  brief 
and  pungent  phrases  told  the  story  of  the  loving  draught, 
and  as  Desire  rose  and  stole  toward  the  door  laid  a 
hand  upon  her  arm  that  effectually  detained  her  until 
the  elder  sternly  said,  — 

“ Remain  you  here,  Desire  Minter,  until  this  report 
is  sifted.” 

“ Were  it  not  well  to  send  at  once  for  our  good  phy- 
sician, that  he  may  know  what  hath  been  done  before 
he  sees  the  captain  ? ” suggested  Bradford  mildly,  and 
the  elder  assenting,  Priscilla  was  dispatched  for  doctor 
Fuller,  who  arrived  within  the  minute,  and  listened  with 
profound  attention,  while  Mistress  Brewster,  to  whom 
alone  the  girl  would  reply,  extracted  from  her  a most 
startling  story. 

“ The  captain  first  of  all  asked  me  to  wife,  and  if  he 
had  not  been  wiled  away  from  me  by  artful  ” — 

“ Nay,  nay,  Desire,  thou  ’rt  not  to  say  such  things  as 
that,”  interposed  the  dame  with  gentle  severity,  and 
Bradford  added  in  much  the  same  tone,  — 

“ ’T  was  thine  own  idle  fancy,  girl,  that  set  thee  on 
such  a notion.  The  captain  hath  averred  to  me  as 
Christian  man  that  he  never  made  proffer  to  thee  nor 
wished  so  to  do  since  first  he  set  eyes  on  thee.” 

“ He  did  then,”  muttered  Desire  sullenly,  and  Mis* 
tress  Brewster  interposed. 

“ Leaving  that  aside,  tell  us,  Desire,  what  didst-  thou 
give  the  captain  to  drink,  and  why  didst  say  that  Pris- 
cilla sent  it  ? ” 

“ Marry,  because  she  hath  bewitched  him,  and  I wot 
well  he  would  take  it  from  her  without  gainsaying.” 


292 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH . 


“ But  what  was  it  thou  gavest  him  ? ” 

“ ’T  was  — there  was  a wench  here  with  the  savages, 
and  Squanto  told  me  she  was  a wise  woman  and  knew 
how  to  work  spells  ” — 

“ Well  then,  go  on,  Desire.” 

“ And  so  I went  with  her  pulling  herbs  in  the  fields 
and  swamps,  and  with  one  word  English  and  one  of 
jabber,  we  knew  each  other’s  meaning,  and  I gave  her 
the  buckle  of  my  belt  which  was  broke  and  none  here 
could  mend  it.” 

“A  generous  gift,  truly,”  interposed  the  elder,  but 
his  wife  beseeching  silence  with  a gesture  asked,  — 

“ And  what  gave  she  thee,  Desire  ? ” 

“ Some  herbs,  mother.” 

“ And  what  were  the  herbs  to  do  ? ” 

“ She  said  steep  them  well,  and  give  the  broth  to  any 
man  I fancied,  and  it  would  turn  his  fancy  on  me.” 

“ A love  philtre  ! Vade  retrograde  Sathanas  ! 99  ex- 
claimed the  elder  half  rising  from  his  chair,  but  here 
the  doctor  eagerly  interposed,  — 

“ What  like  was  the  herb,  girl  ? Hast  any  of  it  in 
store  for  a second  dose  ? ” 

“ Mayhap  — a little,”  muttered  Desire  twisting  and 
turning,  but  seeing  no  means  of  escape. 

“Go  and  fetch  it,”  commanded  the  elder.  “ And 
Priscilla  do  thou  go  too  and  see  that  the  wretched  crea- 
ture doth  not  make  way  with  it.” 

“ And  sith  John  Howland  is  after  a sort  betrothed  to 
the  poor  bemused  child,  I think  it  well  to  summon  him, 
that  he  may  advise  with  us  as  to  the  sequela  of  this 
folly.  I will  call  him  to  the  Council.”  And  Bradford 
followed  the  two  girls  from  the  room. 

“ If  she  hath  murdered  the  captain,  she  shall  die  the 


A LOVE  PHILTRE. 


293 


death,”  exclaimed  the  elder  striding  about  the  room, 
and  pausing  before  the  great  chair  where  his  pale  and 
fragile  wife  sat  looking  up  at  him  with  beseeching  eyes. 

“ Nay,  William,  she  is  hardly  older  than  our  own  dear 
girls,  and  it  would  ill  become  us  who  still  carry  our  own 
lives  in  our  hands  to  deprive  a poor  silly  maid  of  hers.” 
“ So  the  best  road  out  of  the  maze  is  to  cure  the  cap- 
tain,” remarked  Doctor  Fuller  dryly.  “ After  that 
we  ’ll  marry  the  girl  to  John  Howland,  and  trust  him  to 
keep  her  quiet.  Here  they  come.” 

And  in  at  the  open  door  came  the  governor  and 
Howland,  Desire  and  Priscilla,  who  carried  in  her  hand 
a little  box  full  of  half-dried  leaves,  which  she  presented 
to  the  doctor,  who  solemnly  pulling  from  his  pocket  a 
pair  of  clumsy  iron-bowed  spectacles  put  them  astride 
his  nose,  and  taking  the  herbs  to  the  window  carefully 
examined  them,  while  all  the  rest  stood  anxiously  around 
staring  with  all  their  might. 

“Hm!  Hah!  Yes,  well  yes,  I see,  I see!”  mur- 
mured the  botanist,  and  then  turning  to  Bradford  he 
fixed  him  with  a meditative  gaze  over  the  tops  of  his 
barnacles  and  said,  — 

“ You  know  something  of  botany,  Governor.  Say 
you  not  that  this  is  the  Platanthera  Satyrion , the  herb 
supposed  to  give  vigor  to  the  hearts  of  those  wild  men 
whom  the  mythologists  celebrate  ? ” 

“ Is  it  ? I should  have  taken  it  for  the  iris  whose 
flower  I have  noted  in  these  swamps.” 

“ ’T  is  akin,  ay,  distant  kin,  but  with  the  difference 
that  maketh  one  harmless,  and  ’t  other  deadly.  I will 
take  it  to  Sister  Winslow’s  house  and  examine  it  with 
my  books,  but  still  I can  aver  at  once  that ’t  is  Platan- 
thera ; and  if  it  is  also  Satyrion  I will  promise  that  it 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“294 

shall  prove  only  nauseous  and  distasteful  to  our  good 
Captain,  and  by  no  means  deadly.  I will  go  to  see 
him.” 

“And  John  Howland,”  said  the  Governor  turning 
toward  the  young  man  who  stood  looking  with  aversion 
at  the  figure  of  Desire,  who  with  her  head  in  her  apron 
wept  loud  and  angrily,  “ it  seemeth  to  me  that  since 
this  maid  is  betrothed  to  you,  and  is  manifestly  unfit  to 
guide  herself,  that  it  is  best  for  you  to  marry  her  here, 
and  now,  and  after  that  train  her  into  more  discretion 
than  she  naturally  showeth.” 

“ May  it  please  you,  Master  Bradford,  and  you,  El- 
der,” replied  Howland  coldly,  “ it  seemeth  to  me  that  a 
woman  who  shows  so  little  modesty  in  the  pursuit  of 
one  man  is  scarce  fit  wife  for  another.  I did  indeed 
promise  my  late  dear  mistress  whose  ward  this  girl  was, 
that  I would  care  for  her,  and  if  need  be  take  her  to 
wife ; but  sure  am  I that  if  that  godly  and  discreet 
matron  could  know  of  all  this,  she  would  hold  me 
free  of  my  bonds,  the  rather  that  I have  never  looked 
upon  her  with  that  tenderness  that  God  putteth  in  our 
hearts  toward  those  ” — 

“ Nay,  then,  if  it  comes  to  that,”  interposed  Desire, 
snatching  away  her  apron  and  showing  a swollen  and 
tear-stained  face,  “I  hate  and  despise  thee,  John  How- 
land, and  always  have  and  always  will ; and  if  I took 
thee  for  my  bachelor  at  all  it  was  only  in  hope  that 
’t  would  give  a jealous  twinge  to  the  heart  of  a better 
man,  and  if  at  the  last  I failed  of  him  thou  wouldst  be 
better  than  none  ; but  I ’ve  changed  my  mind,  and  now 
I ’ll  none  of  thee,  not  if  ne’er  another  man  ” — 

“ Peace,  shameless  wench ! ” thundered  the  elder, 
striking  the  table  with  his  hand.  “ Profane  not  the 


A LOVE  PHILTRE. 


295 


ears  of  a decent  matron  with  such  talk.  John  Howland, 
it  is  my  rede  that  thou  art  free  of  thy  pledge  to  marry 
this  woman.  What  say  you,  Governor  ? ” 

“ I agree  with  you,  Elder  Brewster,  that  since  both 
man  and  maid  desire  to  render  back  their  troth  that 
they  should  be  permitted  so  to  do  ; and  I further  suggest 
that  by  the  first  occasion  presenting,  Desire  Minter  be 
sent  back  to  her  friends  in  England,  who  will,  as  Mis* 
tress  Carver  told  me,  be  content  to  receive  her.” 

“ Amen  ! ” ejaculated  John  Howland  with  such  unc* 
tion  that  Bradford  gravely  smiled  as  he  followed  him 
from  the  room,  and  murmured  under  his  breath,  — “ He 
will  wed  Elizabeth  Tilley,  an’  I ’m  not  mistaken.” 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


PHILIP  DE  LA  NOYE. 

“ ’T  is  a year  agone  to-day  since  we  in  the  Mayflower 
sighted  land  in  this  place,”  said  Bradford  to  Standish, 
as  the  two  stood  beside  the  gun  just  fired  for  sunset 
when  all  obligatory  labor  ended  in  the  village. 

u Ay,  is  it  so  ? Well,  it  hath  been  a year  of  note  in 
more  ways  than  one,  and  the  next  is  like  to  be  as  adven- 
turous. Ha ! Look  you  there,  Bradford  ! Dost  see  that 
Indian  runner  breasting  the  hill.  Some  great  news, 
surely,  — come,  let  us  go  to  meet  him.” 

“ Squanto  is  before  us.  See  him  leap  the  brook  ” — 
But  Standish  was  already  half  way  down  the  hill,  and 
presently  in  the  open  space  already  spoken  of  as  the 
Town  Square  he  and  two  or  three  of  the  other  leaders 
met  the  runner,  who  escorted  by  Squanto  came  panting 
up  the  hill  from  the  brook,  and  after  the  usual  saluta- 
tions informed  the  governor  that  he  was  sent  from 
Aspinet,  sachem  of  the  Nausets,  to  inform  the  white 
men  that  a vessel  had  been  watched  feeling  her  way 
through  the  shoals  around  Cape  Cod,  and  was  now  lay- 
ing her  course  apparently  for  Plymouth.  Not  knowing 
whether  this  might  be  good  or  bad  news,  the  sachem  had 
felt  it  a friendly  act  to  convey  it  to  his  new  allies  with 
the  greatest  possible  dispatch. 

“ And  he  did  well,  and  both  he  and  thou  shall  see 
that  we  are  not  ungrateful,”  replied  Bradford  cour- 


PHILIP  DE  LA  NO  YE. 


297 


teously.  “ Tisquantum,  take  this  man  to  the  Common 
house,  and  see  that  he  is  suitably  refreshed.  And  now, 
brethren,  what  meaneth  this  ? Is  it  indeed  good  news 
or  bad  ? ” 

“ Bad,”  replied  Standish  promptly.  “ For  well  do 
we  know  that  no  relief  was  to  be  sent  us  until  our  friends 
the  traders  had  seen  the  first  fruits  of  their  Adventure, 
and  as  we  perforce  sent  home  the  Mayflower  empty,  I 
for  one  expect  to  hear  no  more  from  Cheapside  unless  it 
be  a rating.” 

“ There  hath  not  been  time  for  the  Mayflower  to  go 
and  return,  were  our  friends  never  so  willing  to  aid  us,” 
suggested  the  elder  pacifically. 

“Then  what  think  you,  men?”  persisted  Bradford. 
“ Allerton,  Winslow,  Warren,  what  say  ye  all?” 

“We  know  that  the  French  are  at  war  with  England,” 
suggested  Winslow.  “ And  this  may  be  a privateer 
coming  to  harry  the  settlement.” 

“ In  that  case  it  were  well  to  hide  whatever  we  have 
of  value  and  retreat  to  the  woods  with  the  women  and 
children,”  said  Allerton  turning  pale. 

“ And  leave  our  housen,  and  the  Fort  and  its  arma- 
ment, and  our  boats ! ” exclaimed  Standish  contemptu- 
ously. “ Nay,  Governor,  my  counsel  is  that  we  at  once 
arm  ourselves,  train  what  guns  we  can  upon  the  offing, 
and  if  these  indeed  be  buccaneers,  French,  Spanish,  or 
Turks,  receive  them  with  a volley  that  shall  leave  little 
work  for  a second  one.  The  women  and  children  may 
retreat  to  the  woods,  and  he  who  has  any  pots,  or  cups, 
or  pans  of  value  may  bury  them  an’  he  chooses.  My 
best  treasures  are  Gideon  and  my  snaphance,  and  I 
cannot  spare  them  so  long  as  I live  to  wield  them.” 

“ That ’s  the  chat  that  suits  me,  neighbor,”  declared 


298 


STANDISH  OF  STANDI SH. 


Hopkins  in  his  usual  rough,  hearty  fashion,  while  Aller- 
ton,  an  unwonted  tinge  of  color  -upon  his  sallow  cheek, 
hastened  to  avow  himself  as  ready  for  fighting  as  any 
man  since  fighting  was  decided  to  be  the  best  policy. 

And  now  Standish  assumed  control  of  the  occasion 
and  showed  himself  in  his  most  becoming  attitude.  His 
quick  eyes  and  ready  hands  were  everywhere,  and  the 
somewhat  sharp  and  terse  military  orders  that  some- 
times had  seemed  a thought  arbitrary  now  carried  as- 
surance in  their  tone,  and  strengthened  the  hearts  of 
some  and  supported  the  determination  of  others,  who 
left  to  themselves  would  have  scattered  like  sheep  with- 
out a leader. 

“ Let  each  man  arm  and  harness  himself  and  report 
for  inspection  in  the  Town  Square,”  was  the  first  order, 
and  while  it  was  obeyed  the  Captain  climbed  the  hill 
carrying  the  “ perspective  glass  ” made  by  Galileo  him- 
self during  his  exile  in  Holland,  and  brought  to  the  new 
world  by  Governor  Carver,  whose  widow  bequeathed  it 
to  the  colony  as  one  of  its  chief  treasures. 

He  was  followed  by  William  Trevor,  one  of  the  sea- 
men hired  by  the  colony  for  a year,  a fellow  of  quick 
eyesight  and  undaunted  courage.  The  Captain  silently 
and  carefully  adjusted  his  lenses,  and  then  handed  the 
glass  to  Trevor. 

“Now  you,  Bill,  clap  your  eye  to  that  and  get  it  on 
yon  headland,  Farther  Manomet,  d’  ye  see  ? ” 

“ Ay,  Captain,  I have  it,  and  can  count  the  squirrels 
on  the  tree  tops.” 

“ Canst  tell  a ship’s  topmast  from  a squirrel  if  one 
should  heave  in  sight  ? ” 

“ Mayhap  I could,  master.” 

“ Well,  then,  watch  for  it,  and  so  soon  as  any  craft  of 


PHILIP  DE  LA  NO  YE. 


299 


any  color,  be  it  one  of  your  squirrels  on  a chip,  an  Indian 
in  a canoe,  or  a French  man-of-war,  send  this  boy  Cooke 
tumbling  down  the  hill  to  bring  the  news.  Now,  man, 
show  thy  discretion  and  thy  wit.” 

“ Ay,  ay,  Captain,  you  may  trust  Bill  Trevor  for  a 
keen  lookout.  When  I sailed  aboard  a whaler  ” — 

But  already  the  Captain  was  out  of  hearing,  and  pres- 
ently was  inspecting  his  little  army,  mustered  in  the 
Town  Square,  each  man  armed  and  armored. 

Drawn  up  in  two  ranks  the  twenty  men  presented 
a striking  array,  for  in  the  forefront  stood  the  governor, 
the  elder,  the  surgeon,  Winslow,  Allerton,  Warren, 
Hopkins,  Howland,  Alden,  and  Peter  Browne,  ancestor 
of  John  Brown  of  Ossawatomie ; while  the  file  closers, 
if  not  men  of  equal  note  in  affairs,  were  each  one  a 
sturdy  and  determined  Englishman,  ready  to  fight  till 
the  death  and  never  guess  that  he  could  be  conquered. 

The  inspection  over,  the  train  band  was  dismissed 
with  orders  to  stand  ready  to  reassemble  at  a moment’s 
warning,  and  meantime  to  make  such  dispositions  of 
private  property  as  seemed  good  to  each  man. 

Hardly  was  this  order  obeyed  when  from  the  Fort 
came  Trevor’s  sonorous  hail,  — 

“ Sail  ho ! ” and  presently  young  Cooke  came  pelting 
down  the  hill  reporting  with  a military  salute  to  the 
captain. 

“ Trevor  saith,  sir,  that  a ship  of  not  over  sixty  ton  is 
drawing  around  Manomet,  and  that  she  flieth  no  colors 
as  yet.” 

“ Ha ! Let  us  see  then,  let  us  see  ! ” cried  the  cap- 
tain, and  two  minutes  later  was  at  the  top  of  the  hill, 
glass  in  hand. 

“ Hm ! Square  rigged,  slender  built  — what  say  you, 
Trevor,  is  she  a Frenchman  ? ” 


300 


STANDISH  OF  STAN  DISH. 


“ More  like  a Dutchman  to  my  mind,  sir.” 

“ Ah,  then  were  we  all  right,  and  with  a goodly  new 
store  of  schnapps  to  comfort  our  souls,  but  my  mind 
misdoubts  me.  Now  let  us  see  if  we  can  train  this 
saker  to  command  the  offing.  Boy,  run  down  the  hill 
and  fetch  Billington  and  Master  Hopkins.  ’T  will  do 
no  harm,  and  may  — ay,  this  minion  will  sweep  the 
Rock  like  a new  broom.  Here,  Billington,  come  on  man 
and  lend  me  thy  bull’s  neck  and  shoulders.  I would 
shift  the  carriage  of  this  saker.  Ho,  Hopkins,  give  us 
a little  help  here.  There  yeo-ho,  men ! Again,  now 
then  — yeo-ho  ! Now  we  have  it,  now  ! There,  settle 
her  in  place,  that ’s  it,  there  ! Now  then,  Trevor,  how 
about  the  Frenchman  ? ” 

“ She  is  laying  her  course  for  this  harbor,  Captain. 
You  may  see  her  without  the  glass  well  enow,  for  she ’s 
going  about  to  fetch  Beach  Point.” 

“ Is  tide  high  enow  to  carry  her  over  Brown’s 
Islands,  as  Champlain  calleth  the  outer  flats  ? ” asked 
Hopkins,  who  by  fits  liked  to  appear  erudite. 

“ Ay,  ’t  is  full  water  at  noon  to-day,”  replied  Trevor, 
his  eye  glued  to  the  glass. 

“ Now  then,  now  then,  here  she  is  making  straight 
into  the  harbor,”  exclaimed  Standish  excitedly,  and 
plunging  down  the  hill  followed  by  the  rest,  he  made 
signal  to  Bart  Allerton  standing  expectant  at  his  own 
door  to  sound  the  “ assembly  ” upon  the  trumpet  which 
he  had  learned  to  manage  with  great  precision. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  whole  array  of  fighting  men 
stood  steady  in  their  ranks,  with  the  larger  boys  hang- 
ng  in  the  rear,  each  carrying  a spare  gun,  or  some 
other  weapon,  and  all  eyes  fixed  upon  the  point  where 
the  stranger  would  appear  as  she  beat  her  way  into  the 
harbor. 


PHILIP  DE  LA  NO  YE. 


301 


Suddenly  the  captain  waved  his  hand  above  his  head, 
glancing  up  at  the  Fort  where,  under  the  folds  of  the 
British  standard,  stood  Trevor,  linstock  in  hand.  An 
other  moment,  and  out  from  the  hoarse  throat  of  ths 
saker  roared  a defiant  peal  echoing  grandly  from  hill 
to  hill,  startling  the  savages  who  covertly  watched  the 
arrival  of  new  foes  or  new  friends  as  the  case  might  be, 
and  rolling  ominously  across  the  waters  of  the  harbor  to 
demand  the  name  of  the  intruder. 

“ They  be  busy  with  their  ancient-staff,”  reported 
Trevor  presently,  as  he  resumed  the  spy-glass.  “ There 
goes  the  bunting  — ha  — ay  — run  boy,  and  tell  the 
captain  ’t  is  the  ^ed  cross  of  Merrie  England  ; ’t  is  the 
home  colors,  bey  ! ” 

But  already  the  eager  eyes  in  the  Town  Square  had 
recognized  the  Hag,  and  Standish  lapsing  from  the  mar- 
tinet into  the  exile  waved  Gideon  above  his  head  shout- 
ing* — 

“ ’T  is  cur  own  flag,  men  ; ’t  is  the  red  cross  of  Old 
England ! Three  cheers  boys,  three  cheers  for  the  dear 
old  flag ! Now  then  ! ” 

And  the  glad  shout  arose,  and  again  and  again,  not 
only  from  the  bearded  throats  of  men,  but  in  the  shrill 
treble  of  boys,  and  the  dainty  voices  of  girls,  who  just 
out  of  sight  watched  as  women  do,  when  life  and  honor 
hang  in  the  balance. 

“ Oh  Mary,  Mary  maid,  why  art  thou  crying  ! Silly 
wench  ” — 

“Nay,  but  thou’rt  crying  thyself,  Priscilla!  Nay, 
now  thou  ’rt  laughing  ! ” 

“ To  think  how  John  Alden  turned  white  as  any 
maid  when  the  good  news  came ! ” sobbed  Priscilla  run- 
ning in  to  fling  her  arms  around  Dame  Brewster,  who 


302 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


sat  with  folded  hands  and  rapt  face  praying  to  the  God 
of  battles. 

“ Oh  mother,  mother,  they  all  are  safe,  and ’t  is  an 
English  ship.  Belike,  Fear  and  Patience  and  their 
brother  are  aboard.” 

“ Nay,  dear  maid,  nay,  be  not  so  carried  away.  If 
indeed  God  sendeth  my  children  ” — 

But  the  mere  thought  of  such  joy  was  too  much 
for  the  self-control  the  poor  mother  so  struggled  for, 
and  when  the  elder  hastened  into  the  house  he  found 
his  wife  weeping  for  joy  upon  Priscilla’s  heaving  breast. 

“ Nay  then,  wife,  nay  then,  doest  thou  well?  — and  yet 
mine  own  eyes  might  but  too  easily  rain  with  gratitude. 
Dame,  wife  I say,  nay  then  — let  us  pray  that  in  all 
things  His  will  be  done.” 

And  in  less  than  an  hour  Mary  Brewster  was  sobbing 
afresh  in  the  stalwart  embrace  of  her  eldest  son  Jon- 
athan, a young  fellow  of  five -and -thirty,  who  full  of 
health  and  courage  was  come  to  be  the  staff  of  her  old 
age,  and  to  bring  news  of  the  fair  sisters  who  would 
come  anon. 

For  this  was  the  Fortune,  a little  ship  of  fifty-five  tons, 
dispatched  by  the  Adventurers  in  London  to  carry  over 
some  of  the  colonists  disappointed  of  a passage  in  the 
Mayflower,  but  principally  to  convey  Robert  Cushman, 
who  came  pledged  to  obtain  the  consent  of  the  Pilgrims 
to  a contract  more  favorable  to  their  English  friends 
than  that  they  were  disposed  to  undertake.  With  him 
came  his  son  Thomas,  a boy  of  fourteen,  whom  his  father 
upon  his  hasty  return  in  the  Fortune  left  behind  under 
charge  of  the  governor,  to  whom  he  subsequently  wrote, 
“ I pray  you  care  for  my  son  as  for  your  own ; ” and 
so  well  did  Bradford  train  the  boy  soon  orphaned  and 


PHILIP  DE  LA  NO  YE. 


303 


left  entirely  to  his  charge,  that  Thomas  Cushman  be- 
came successor  of  William  Brewster  as  Ruling  Elder  of 
the  Pilgrim  Church,  and  now  lies  on  Burying  Hill  be- 
neath a goodly  monument  erected  by  his  numerous  de- 
scendants. 

But  little  on  that  bleak  November  day  recked  the 
boy  of  future  honors  or  proud  posterities,  for  he  and 
his  friend  Thomas  Prence,  future  governor  of  the  col- 
ony, but  then  a merry  youth  of  nineteen,  were  hand  and 
glove  with  a gay  company  of  lads  and  young  men  who 
had  accepted  the  adventure  of  Pilgrimage  as  they  would 
have  sailed  with  Drake,  or  Hawkins,  or  Captain  Cooke, 
— any  leader  who  promised  novelty,  excitement,  and  the 
chance  of  hard  knocks  and  treasure. 

So  little  responsible  for  their  own  welfare  were  many 
of  these  younkers  that,  although  fairly  fitted  out  for  tli6 
voyage,  they  had  while  weather  - bound  in  the  British 
Channel  gone  ashore  at  Old  Plymouth  and  “brushed 
away”  even  their  cloaks  and  extra  doublets,  in  some 
cases  their  very  bedding  and  such  cooking  utensils  as 
passengers  were  then  expected  to  provide  themselves 
with.  So  far  from  bringing  fresh  supplies  of  food  to 
the  colony,  these  runagates  had  devoured  perforce  the 
provisions  that  should  have  victualed  the  Fortune  on  her 
return  voyage,  and  the  colonists  were  forced  for  human- 
ity’s sake  to  supply  her  out  of  their  own  scanty  stock. 

Among  these  young  fellows  was  a slight,  dark-eyed 
lad  of  about  nineteen,  who  so  soon  as  he  had  landed 
asked  for  the  Demoiselle  Molines. 

“ Priscilla  Molines  ? Dost  thou  know  her  then  ? ” in- 
quired Alden  who  heard  the  question,  although  addressed 
to  Billington,  who  only  grinned  at  the  lad’s  French  ac- 
cent and  made  no  reply. 


304 


STAND1SH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Certainly,  yes.  My  sister  is  of  her  closest  friends.” 
“ Ay  ? Is  thy  name  De  la  Noye  ? ” 

“ Truly  ! ” exclaimed  the  boy,  his  face  lighting  viva- 
ciously. “ I am  Philip  de  la  Noye.” 

“ Hm,  and  your  brother  Jacques  — is  he  in  the  com- 
pany, or  coming  in  the  next  ship  ? ” asked  Alden 
grimly ; but  at  that  moment  Priscilla  coming  swiftly 
forward,  held  out  both  hands  to  the  new-comer  exclaim- 
ing  joyously  in  French,  — 

“ Philip,  dear  lad ! Glad  am  I to  see  thee  ” 

“ She  will  have  news  now  from  her  lover,”  muttered 
Alden  bitterly,  but  just  then  the  captain  hailed,  — 

“ Here  Jack,  put  thy  long  legs  and  brawny  thews  to 
service  in  bringing  some  of  these  budgets  up  the  hill. 
Here ’s  a poor  soul  with  three  little  children  tugging 
at  her  skirts  and  she  a widow,  and  fit  to  be  put  to  bed 
herself.” 

“I  ’ll  help  her  up  the  hill,  Captain,”  interposed  Peter 
Browne  hastily,  and  as  he  carefully  aided  the  Widow 
Ford  to  climb  the  steep  ascent  some  sprite  might  have 
whispered  in  his  ear  that  this  was  his  own  future  wife. 
That  night  was  born  Martha  Ford,  who  should  from 
similarity  of  history  have  married  Peregrine  White,  but 
who  instead  wedded  William  Nelson. 

Not  until  the  last  bale  or  packet  unloaded  from  the 
Fortune  had  been  disposed  of  in  the  Common  storehouse, 
or  in  some  one  of  the  houses  all  hospitably  thrown  open 
to  the  new-comers,  did  John  Alden  cease  his  labors  or 
exchange  more  than  a brief  word  with  those  about  him, 
until  at  last  Bradford  cheerily  declared  labor  over  for 
the  day  and  added,  — 

“ Come  friends  to  my  house,  and  hear  what  Master 
Cushman  will  have  to  tell  us  of  affairs  in  the  old  home. 


PHILIP  DE  LA  NO  YE.  305 

Come  Alden,  and  reward  thy  labors  with  a good  flagon 
of  beer.” 

Muttering  some  reply,  the  young  man  followed  the 
rest  up  Leyden  Street,  but  as  they  reached  the  govern- 
or’s house,  a somewhat  larger  and  more  important  cabin 
than  the  rest,  he  passed  quickly  on  and  up  the  hilh 
Pausing  but  a moment  at  the  Fort,  he  struck  down  the 
steep  southerly  side  to  the  brook,  and  having  performed 
his  simple  toilet  strode  moodily  on  toward  the  forest,  but 
had  only  gone  a few  rods  when  a familiar  voice  called 
his  name,  and  turning  he  saw  Priscilla  with  Mary  Chil- 
ton and  the  young  Frenchman,  to  whom  they  seemed  to  be 
showing  the  brook  and  its  springs  of  “ delicate  water.” 

Very  reluctantly  Alden  turned  and  moved  toward 
them. 

“ Did  you  speak,  Mistress  Mary  ? ” inquired  he  as  the 
party  approached. 

“ I — I,”  stammered  Mary  blushing  vividly. 

“ It  was  I who  bade  her  do  so,”  interposed  Priscilla 
with  an  impatient  glance  at  the  English  girl  whose  hon- 
esty had  spoiled  her  little  finesse.  “We  thought  you 
looked  but  dull,  and  I would  fain  bring  my  new-arrived 
friend  Philip  De  la  Noye  to  your  acquaintance.” 

The  two  men  exchanged  salutations,  Philip  with  the 
ready  grace  of  a Latin,  John  with  that  distinguishing  a 
Saxon,  especially  if  displeased. 

“We  are  strolling  about  a bit  before  making  ready 
for  supper,”  added  Priscilla.  “ Philip  is  curious  as  to 
our  manner  of  life  in  these  wilds.” 

“ ’T  is  but  ill  suited  to  slender  folk,”  replied  Alden 
glancing  superciliously  at  the  slight  stripling,  who,  for 
his  part,  surveyed  with  a sort  of  amused  wonder  the 
thews  and  stature  of  the  young  giant  striding  sullenly 
at  Priscilla’s  other  hand. 


306 


STANDISH  OF  STAND1SH. 


“ Nay,  we  do  not  pack  diamonds  in  bales  like  hay,” 
retorted  Priscilla  stingingly,  and  then  turning  to  Philip 
she  inquired  eagerly,  — 

And  Jacques  and  Guillaume  are  well,  quite,  quite 
well,  are  they  ? ” 

“Yes,  and  Marie  and  Jeanne,”  replied  Philip  plac- 
idly. 

“ And  have  you  news  from  friends  at  home,  Mary  ? 99 
asked  John  decidedly  moving  to  her  side. 

“ Nay,  there  are  none  left  there  of  my  nearest  kin,’’ 
replied  the  girl  sadly.  “We  came  all  of  us  together,  and 
only  I am  left.” 

“ Nay,  Mary,  so  fair  and  so  good  a maid  as  thou, will 
never  stay  long  without  friends.  Thou  wouldst  never 
flout  an  honest  fellow’s  love  and  draw  him  on,  and  turn 
him  back,  and  use  him  worse  than  a baby  doth  its  pup- 
pet. The  man  who  loves  thee  will  never  rue  it.” 

So  meaning  were  his  glances  and  his  tone,  that  for  a 
moment  the  simple  maid  stood  aghast.  Could  it  be  that 
Alden’s  constancy  had  given  out,  and  he  was  now  ready 
to  woo  her  instead  of  her  friend ; but  in  another  moment 
the  truth  dawned  upon  her,  and  with  more  diplomacy 
than  she  often  showed  Mary  smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

“ I know  not,  for  love  and  sweethearts  have  not  come 
my  way  yet.  ?T  is  Priscilla  whom  all  men  seek,  and 
she  in  merry  mood  listeth  to  all  and  still  keepeth  her 
own  mind  secret.  She  is  well  content  to-night,  for  this 
lad  hath  brought  news  of  his  brother’s  marriage.” 

“ What,  the  fellow  they  call  Jacques  ? ” demanded 
John  glancing  eagerly  toward  the  other  couple  now 
walking  some  paces  in  advance. 

“ Ay,  and  Guillaume  is  betrothed,  and  Jeanne.  They 
are  dear  friends  of  our  Priscilla.” 


Fill  LIP  DE  LA  NO  YE. 


307 


“ But  — but  — nay,  then,  maid  Mary,  have  compas* 
sion  on  a poor  stupid  oaf  who  is  no  match  for  her  or 
you  or  any  woman  in  subtlety  and  fence,  and  yet  loveth 
yon  maid  as  it  is  not  well  for  man  to  love  aught  but  his 
Maker.  Tell  me,  doth  she  care  aught  for  me  ? ” 

“Nay,  John,  that  is  a question  none  but  she  should 
answer,  but  yet  I may  tell  thee  thus  much.  The  news 
she  hath  to-day  may  embolden  thee  to  ask  again.” 

“ Good  wench,  true  friend ! ” exclaimed  Alden,  his 
whole  face  lighting  with  a new  hope.  “ And  now  as  we 
turn  toward  home,  if  thou  wouldst  but  engage  yon  boy’s 
attention,  and  let  me  essay  while  hope  is  strong  and 
courage  fresh,  I will  put  my  fate  once  more  to  the  touch 
and  know  if  joy  and  I are  henceforth  partners,  or  the 
coldest  of  strangers.” 

“ Ah,  lad,  thou  lovest  her  overmuch,”  replied  Mary, 
letting  her  placid  blue  eyes  rest  upon  him  half  curiously, 
half  enviously.  “ No  man  will  ever  care  for  me  like 
that,  for  I have  not  the  skill  to  hide  my  mind  as  Pris- 
cilla hath.  But  I ’ll  help  thee,  John,  for  I do  believe 
thou  ’It  make  the  dear  maid  happy  if  she  will  but  stay 
in  one  mind  long  enough  to  wed  thee.” 

And  in  a few  moments  when  the  setting  sun  warned 
Priscilla  that  it  was  time  to  turn  homeward,  and  the  two 
parties  came  together,  Mary  showed  Philip  De  la  Noye 
the  strawberry  plants  of  which  he  had  asked,  and  so 
detained  him  for  a moment,  while  John  walking  on  with 
Priscilla  impatiently  began,  — 

“Wilt  answer  me  one  little  question  in  good  faith, 
mistress  ? ” 

“In  good  faith  if  at  all,  John.” 

“Then,  what  bond  is  there  betwixt  thee  and  this 
lad’s  brother  Jacques  ? ” 


308 


STANDI S II  OF  STANDISR. 


“None  save  good  will  and  old  acquaintance.” 

“ But  there  was.” 

“ Was  there  ? ” 

“ Nay  now,  Priscilla,  I speak  to  thee  in  sober  sadness, 
and  I ask  such  reply  as  honest  maid  should  give  to  hon- 
est mar  who  woos  her  for  his  wife.  If  we  fall  to  quips 
and  cranks  and  wordy  play,  thou  ’rt  so  far  out  of  my 
reach  that  I know  not  if  I ever  come  near  thee,  for  I ’m 
but  a plain  simple  fellow,  Priscilla,  and  I love  thee 
more  than  I love  aught  else  hut  God  and  the  truth. 
Give  me  now  a plain  answer  and  have  pity  of  my 
misery.  Has  aught  of  this  lad’s  news  changed  thy  will 
or  thy  intent  toward  me  ? ” 

And  Priscilla  moving  slowly  along  beside  her  wooer 
shot  a rapid  sidelong  glance  at  his  white  face,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  their  acquaintance  felt  a thrill  of  respect 
akin  to  fear,  sweep  in  his  direction  across  her  gay  self- 
assertive  nature. 

“ Yes,  John,  I will  answer  thee  truly  and  soberly,” 
replied  she  in  a voice  he  had  never  heard  from  her 
before.  “ Philip  De  la  Noye  hath  brought  news  that 
sets  me  free  from  a teasing  obligation  of  which  no  man 
knows.  Marie  and  Jeanne,  his  sisters,  are  my  dear 
friends  and  gossips,  and  their  brother  Jacques  would 
fain  have  been  my  bachelor  in  Leyden,  but  I was  too 
young  my  father  said  to  listen  to  such  talk,  and  he  cared 
not  greatly  for  Jacques,  who  was  to  tell  truth  some- 
what gay  and  debonair  of  temper,  and  no  church  mem- 
ber, no,  not  he.  So  when  we  parted  from  Leyden  to 
come  hither,  and  I went  to  bid  good-by  to  my  friends, 
James,  as  you  call  him  in  English,  would  fain  have 
me  promise  to  wed  no  man  but  him,  and  he  would  come 
hither  so  soon  as  he  was  his  own  master.” 


PHILIP  DE  LA  NO  YE. 


309 


“ And  didst  promise,  Priscilla  ? ” 

“ Well,  nay  and  yea,  John.  I said  I knew  not  what 
might  meet  me  here,  and  — but  at  long  and  at  last  I 
promised  to  wait  until  the  first  ship  had  followed  us, 
and  if  Jacques  came  in  her  I would  — would  listen 
to  him  again.” 

“ And  that  was  all  thy  promise,  maiden  ? ” 

“ Ay,  and  enough,  for  before  we  landed  on  yonder 
Rock,  and  ’twas  Mary  Chilton  and  not  thee,  John,  who 
first  skipt  ashore  ” — 

“ Oh,  mind  not  that  just  now,  Priscilla.” 

“ Well,  before  I myself  came  ashore  I knew  that  I 
cared  not  for  Jacques  De  la  Noye.  Beside  the  death- 
bed of  my  mother,  and  again  by  that  of  my  brother,  I 
knew  that  life  was  darker  and  deeper  than  he  could 
fathom.” 

“ Ay,  maid,  and  nobly  didst  thou  bear  that  sorry  load 
of  woe  and  care.” 

Priscilla’s  color  rose,  and  her  dark  eyes  flashed  a 
message  of  thanks,  but  without  other  reply  she  went 
steadily  on,  — 

“ And  so  soon  as  Philip  saw  me,  he  delivered  himself 
of  the  news  that  Jacques,  some  three  months  since, 
was  wed  at  Saint  Peter’s  Church  to  Gertrude  Barthol- 
mei,  a merry  Flemish  maid,  who  ever  looked  kindly  on 
him,  and  now  is  welcome  to  him.” 

“ Say  you  that  honestly,  Priscilla  ? ” 

“ As  honestly  as  thyself  could  speak,  lad.” 

“ And  thou  ’rt  heart-whole  ? ” 

“ Nay,  I said  not  exactly  that.” 

“ What ! Dost  really  care  for  the  captain  ? ” 

“ As  I care  for  the  governor  and  the  doctor ; no  more, 
no  less.” 


310 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Priscilla,  wilt  be  my  wife  ? ” 

“Nay  then,  John,  why  didst  not  ask  that  at  first 
rather  than  at  last  ? Thou  ’rt  too  fond  of  quip  and  quirk 
and  wordy  warfare,  John,  too  much  given  to  fence  and 
intrigue.” 

“ I,  Priscilla ! Nay  then,  I ’ll  not  be  turned  aside 
again,  try  as  thou  wilt.  Priscilla,  wilt  be  my  wife  ? ” 

“ Nay  then,  I never  could  bear  a cuckoo  song  all  on 
two  notes,  and  if  thou  ’rt  bound  to  say  that  phrase  over 
and  over  till  ’t  is  answered  ” — 

“ ’T  is  just  what  I am  bound  to  do.  Priscilla,  wilt  be 
my  wife  ? ” 

“Yes,  John,  I will,  and  now  I hope  thou  ’rt  content.” 
“ Wait  till  I see  thee  alone  this  evening,  and  I ’ll  tell 
thee  how  content.  Oh,  maiden  ” — 

“ I will  wait  in  what  patience  I may  until  that  threat- 
ened evening  hour,”  interrupted  Priscilla  as  restively  as 
the  young  colt  who,  after  Jong  coquetting,  at  last  feels 
the  bridle  slipped  over  his  head.  “ Mary,  an’  thou  has- 
ten not  there  ’ll  be  little  done  toward  supper  at  supper 
time.  Desire  is  naught  and  less  than  naught  now  that 
she ’s  going  home,  and  Bessy  Tilley  thinketh  only  of 
John  Howland,  and  the  dear  mother  hath  her  son,  so 
who  is  left  but  thee  and  me  to  do  a hand’s  turn.” 

“ Here  am  I,  Priscilla,  and  I ’ll  help  thee  in  any  way 
thou  ’It  say,”  suggested  John  Alden  a little  presuming 
upon  his  recent  acceptance,  and  for  his  pains  receiving 
a snub  that  made  him  wince  again,  for  Priscilla  coldly 
replied,  — 

“ They  say  they  came  nigh  bringing  a Jack  in  the 
Fortune,  but  had  no  room  for  him ; so  thou  mayst  take 
his  place,  and  fetch  me  a bucket  of  water  from  the 
spring.  There ’s  no  mighty  difference  betwixt  Jack 
and  John.” 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


KEEPING  CHRISTMAS. 

And  now  began  a new  epoch  in  the  life  of  the  colony. 
The  passengers  of  the  Fortune,  thirty-five  in  number, 
although  nominally  of  the  same  belief  and  manners  as 
the  Mayflower  Pilgrims,  were  in  effect  a new  element 
which,  in  spite  of  the  generous  efforts  of  the  new-comers, 
did  not  readily  assimilate  with  the  sober  and  restrained 
tone  natural  to  men  who  had  suffered  and  struggled  and 
conquered  at  such  terrible  loss  to  themselves,  as  had  the 
first  comers. 

A score  of  gay  young  fellows  upon  whom  life  sat  so 
lightly  that  they  cared  not  how  they  periled  it,  was  no 
doubt  a valuable  acquisition  to  the  fighting  force  of  the 
colony,  and  almost  upon  the  day  of  their  arrival  the 
Captain  enrolled,  divided,  and  began  to  train  them, 
forming  four  companies  of  twelve  men  each,  for  some 
of  the  larger  boys  of  the  Mayflower  were  now  enlisted, 
tnd  this  force  of  fifty  men  was  at  least  once  in  every 
week  led  over  to  the  Training  Green  across  the  brook, 
and  there  inspected,  manoeuvred,  marched  and  counter- 
marched, disciplined  in  prompt  obedience  and  rapid 
movement ; until  the  birds  of  the  air  who  watched  from 
the  neighboring  forest  should  have  carried  a warning 
to  their  co-aborigines,  the  Narragansetts,  the  Neponsets, 
the  Namaskets,  and  the  Manomets,  not  yet  convinced, 
spite  of  the  late  warning,  that  the  white  man  was  their 
Fate  against  which  it  was  but  bitter  defeat  to  struggle. 


312 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


The  training  over,  each  company  in  turn  escorted  the 
captain  to  his  own  quarters,  and  fired  a salute  of  honor 
as  he  dismissed  them. 

“’Tis  not  for  mine  own  glory,  Will,  as  thou  who 
knowest  me  will  believe,”  said  Standish,  while  the  gov- 
ernor and  he  smoking  a placid  pipe  on  the  evening  of  the 
first  training,  discussed  the  events  of  the  day.  “ But  in 
matters  military  even  more  than  civil,  it  needs  that  one 
man  should  be  at  the  head,  and  command  the  respectful 
observance  as  well  as  the  obedience  of  those  under  his 
command.  It  is  not  Myles  Standish  whom  the  soldiers 
of  Plymouth  salute  as  he  enters  this  poor  hut,  but  the 
Captain  of  the  Colony’s  forces.” 

“ Ay,  ay,  Myles,  I know  thy  humility,”  replied  Brad- 
ford with  his  smile  of  gentle  subtlety.  The  captain 
shot  an  inquiring  glance  out  of  his  red-brown  eyes,  and 
in  turn  laughed  a little  uncomfortably. 

“ Nay  now,  thou  ’rt  laughing  at  me,  Will.  I claim 
no  great  meed  of  humility  to  be  sure,  and  yet  thou  know- 
est lad,  that  if  I could  serve  this  emprise  better  by  carry- 
ing a musket  in  the  ranks  ” — 

“ Nay  now,  old  friend,  may  not  I smile  at  some  jest 
between  myself  and  my  pipe,  but  thou  must  tack  more 
meaning  to  it  than  Brewster  says  hung  on  Lord  Bur- 
leigh’s nod  ? And  yet  in  sober  sadness,  Myles,  ’t  is  mar- 
vel to  me  how  thou,  born  to  a great  name  and  to  such 
observance  as  awaits  the  children  of  wealthy  houses, 
and  then,  when  hardly  more  than  a boy,  placed  in  au- 
thority such  as  appertaineth  to  an  English  army  officer 
in  time  of  war,  how  thou  hast  failed  to  become  more 
arrogant  and  peremptory  than  thou  art.  And  as  for 
a musket  in  the  ranks,  what  were  that  to  such  offices  as 
not  yet  a year  agone  I saw  thee  fill  around  the  beds  of 


KEEPING  CHRISTMAS. 


313 


the  sick  and  dying  in  our  first  great  plague  ? When 
had  we  a tenderer  nurse,  a more  patient  watcher? 
What  office  was  too  loathly  for  thee,  what  tendence 
too  tiring  ? ” — 

“ Will,  an’  thou  holdst  not  thy  tongue  I ’ll  leave  thee 
to  thyself.” 

, “ Thou  ’It  never  be  so  rude  in  thine  own  house,  Myles. 

Such  manners  would  ill  befit  a Standish  of  Standish.” 

“Come  now,  Governor,  do  you  disapprove  of  the 
salute,  or  of  any  other  of  my  military  ordonnances  ? ” 

“ I disapprove  of  naught,  old  comrade,  but  of  a certain 
want  of  patience  beneath  a friend’s  jest  which  I have 
sometimes  marked,  and  haply  it  is  I who  am  at  fault  to 
try  thee  so ; but  Myles,  there ’s  enow  to  make  the  gov- 
ernor of  this  colony  sorry  and  sober,  and  thou  shouldst 
not  grudge  him  a moment  of  merriment  even  at  thine 
own  cost.” 

“ Nor  do  I,  as  well  thou  knowest,  Will.  ’T  is  only 
that  I am  as  ever  a hot-headed  fool  and  ill  deserve  a 
friend  like  thee.  And  now  what  thinkst  thou  of  Mas- 
ter Cushman’s  errand,  and  the  chidings  of  those  London 
traders  that  we  sent  them  not  a cargo  by  the  Mayflower  ? 
We  who  had  much  ado  to  dig  the  graves  of  half  our 
company  and  to  find  food  for  the  rest,  to  be  rated  like 
laggard  servants  because  we  laded  not  that  old  hulk 
with  merchandise  for  their  benefit.” 

“Ay,  Master  Weston’s  letter  was  somewhat  hard  to 
bear,  albeit  we  should  excuse  much  to  his  ignorance  of 
our  surroundings,”  said  Bradford  placably,  although  the 
color  rose  to  his  cheek  at  thought  of  the  injustice  he 
and  his  friends  had  suffered.  “ I have  writ  a reply,” 
continued  he,  laying  down  his  pipe  and  drawing  a roll 
of  paper  from  the  pocket  of  his  leathern  jerkin,  “ and 


334 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISff. 


am  fain  to  have  your  mind  upon  it,  for  I would  not  be 
over  bitter,  and  yet  was  shrewdly  wounded  that  John 
Carver  lying  in  his  honored  grave  should  be  so  rudely 
attacked.  Shall  I read  it  ? ” 

“Ay,  an’  thou  wilt,  though  I’m  more  than  half  in 
mind  to  take  passage  by  the  Fortune,  and  give  Master 
Weston  and  the  rest  a reply  after  mine  own  fashion.” 

“ What,  and  leave  the  train  hand  to  its  own  destruc- 
tion ! But  here  you  have  my  poor  script : — 

“To  the  worshipful  Master  Thos:  Weston  : 

“ Sir,  — Your  large  letter  written  to  Mr.  Carver  and 
dated  the  16th  of  July  1621  I have  received  the  20th 
of  Nov’br,  wherein  you  lay  many  heavy  imputations 
upon  him  and  us  all.  Touching  him  he  is  departed  this 
life,  and  now  is  at  rest  in  the  Lord  from  all  those 
troubles  and  incumbrances  with  which  we  are  yet  to 
strive.  He  needs  not  my  apology;  for  his  care  and 
pains  were  so  great  for  the  common  good  both  ours  and 
yours,  as  that  therewith  it  is  thought,  he  oppressed  him- 
self and  shortened  his  days  of  whose  loss  we  cannot 
sufficiently  complain.  At  great  charges  in  this  Adven- 
ture I confess  you  have  been,  and  many  losses  you  may 
sustain ; but  the  loss  of  his  and  many  other  honest  and 
industrious  mens  lives  cannot  be  valued  at  any  price. 
Of  the  one  there  may  be  hope  of  recovery,  but  the  other 
no  recompence  can  make  good.” 

“ Oh,  you  ’re  too  mild,  Bradford,”  burst  out  the  cap- 
tain as  the  reader  paused  and  looked  up  for  approval. 
“You  should  bombard  him  with  red-hot  shot,  hurl  a 
flight  of  grape,  a volley  of  canister  into  his  midst  — nay 
then,  but  I ’ll  go  myself  and  with  a blow  of  my  gauntlet 
across  Master  Weston’s  ears  ” — 


KEEPING  CHRISTMAS 


315 


“ Captain  — Captain  Standish ! Master  Warren  hath 
sent  me  to  warn  your  worship  that  some  of  the  new- 
comers are  building  a bonfire  in  the  Town  Square,  and 
sprinkling  the  pile  with  powder  ” — 

“There,  Myles,  thou  seest  how  well  we  can  spare 
thee  ! Wouklst  leave  me  at  the  mercy  of  these  rough 
companions  who  ” — 

But  already  the  captain  armed  with  a stout  stick  was 
half  way  down  the  hill,  and,  smiling  quaintly  to  himself 
Bradford  relighted  his  pipe  and  went  home  to  finish  his 
letter. 

A week  later  the  Fortune  sailed  on  her  return  voyage 
carrying  Cushman,  who  left  his  son  Thomas  under  Brad- 
ford’s care  until  lie  should  come  again,  not  knowing  that 
his  next  voyage  should  be  across  the  shoreless  sea  whence 
no  bark  hath  yet  returned.  Under  his  charge  traveled 
Desire  Minter,  loudly  proclaiming  her  joy  at  returning 
to  regions  “ where  a body  might  at  least  look  for  decent 
victual,”  and  Humility  Cooper,  Elizabeth  Tilley’s  little 
cousin.  The  two  seamen,  Trevor  and  Ely,  also  re- 
turned, their  year  of  service  having  expired ; but  in  spite 
of  the  dearth  of  provision,  already  imminent  owing  to 
the  unprovided  condition  of  the  new-comers,  not  one  of 
the  Pilgrims  embraced  this  opportunity  of  escape. 

Besides  her  passengers,  the  Fortune  carried  valuable 
freight  consigned  to  Weston  as  agent  of  the  Adventurers. 
The  best  room  was  given  to  sassafras  root,  of  which  the 
colonists  had  gathered  great  store,  and  with  much  re- 
joicing, for  being  just  then  the  panacea  of  both  French 
and  English  physicians,  it  was  worth  something  like 
forty  dollars  of  our  present  money  per  pound.  Besides 
the  sassafras  were  several  hogsheads  of  beaver  skins, 
also  very  valuable  at  that  time,  and  the  rest  of  the  hold 


816 


STANDISH  OF  STAND  IS  H. 


was  filled  with  clapboards  and  other  finished  lumbert 
the  whole  cargo  worth  at  least  twenty-five  hundred  dol- 
lars. The  most  precious  thing  on  board  that  little  vessel 
however,  if  we  except  human  life,  was  a manuscript 
journal  written  by  William  Bradford  and  Edward  Wins- 
low, and  sent  home  to  their  friend  George  Morton  in 
London,  who,  finding  it  too  good  to  be  kept  to  himself, 
had  it  printed  the  very  same  year  by  “ John  Bellamy 
at  his  shop  at  the  Two  Greyhounds,  near  the  Royal 
Exchange,  London,”  and  as  he  did  not  give  the  names 
of  its  authors,  nor  bestow  any  distinctive  title  upon  it,  it 
came  to  be  called  46  Mourt’s  Relation,”  and  was  the  first 
book  ever  printed  about  that  insignificant  knot  of  emi- 
grants in  whom  we  now  glory  as  the  Forefathers  of 
New  England.  But  alas  for  human  hopes,  alas  for  the 
honest  rejoicings  of  the  Pilgrims  in  their  goodly  cargo, 
just  before  the  Fortune  sighted  the  English  coast  she 
was  captured  by  a French  cruiser  and  carried  into  Isle 
Dieu.  Two  weeks  later  the  vessel,  crew,  and  passengers 
were  released,  but  the  sassafras,  the  beaver  skins,  and 
the  lumber  went  to  heal  and  warm  and  house  French- 
men instead  of  Englishmen,  and  Thomas  Weston’s 
pockets  still  cried  out  with  their  emptiness.  Happily 
for  the  world,  however,  the  Frenchmen  did  not  appre- 
ciate the  “ Relation,”  and  it  went  peacefully  on  in  Rob- 
ert Cushman’s  mails,  and  reached  good  George  Morton’s 
hands. 

About  a week  after  the  sailing  of  the  Fortune  came 
Christmas  Day,  and  Bradford  doing  on  his  clothing 
for  a good  day  at  lumbering  allowed  himself  a half  re- 
gretful memory  of  the  sports  and  revelings  with  which 
he  and  the  other  youth  of  Austerfield  had  been  wont  to 
observe  the  Feast;  but  presently  remembering  his  new 


KEEPING  CHRISTMAS.  317 

beliefs,  the  Separatist  leader  murmured  something  about 
“ rags  of  Popery,”  and  went  down  to  his  breakfast. 

“ Call  the  men  together,  Howland,”  ordered  he  in 
some  displeasure  as  leaving  his  house  axe  in  hand  he 
found  only  his  older  comrades  awaiting  him.  “ Where 
are  the  new-comers  ? I see  none  of  them.” 

“ An’  it  please  you,  Governor,  Hicks  and  the  rest  of 
them  say  it  goeth  against  their  conscience  to  work  on 
Christmas  Day,”  reported  Howland  with  a grim  smile. 

For  a moment  Bradford  frowned,  but  as  he  caught 
the  gay  glint  of  Standish’s  eyes  his  own  softened,  and 
after  a brief  pause  he  answered  temperately,  — 

“ We  will  force  no  man’s  conscience.  Tell  Robert 
Hicks  and  the  rest  that  I excuse  them  until  they  be 
better  informed.” 

At  noon  the  wood-choppers  returned  to  the  village 
weary  and  hungry,  for  already  had  the  entire  company 
been  placed  upon  half  rations  of  food,  so  to  continue 
until  another  cargo  should  arrive,  or  the  next  year’s 
crop  be  ripe.  Well  for  their  endurance  that  they  could 
not  foresee  that  no  farther  cargo  of  provisions  should 
ever  arrive  for  them,  from  those  who  had  undertaken  to 
support  them,  and  that  the  next  year’s  crop  should  prove 
a failure.  But  now  as  they  wearily  toiled  up  the  hill 
from  the  brookside,  eager  for  the  hour  of  rest  and  the 
scanty  meal  they  were  learning  to  value  so  highly, 
sounds  of  loud  revelry  and  boisterous  mirth  fell  upon 
their  ears,  sounds  alien  to  their  mood,  their  necessities, 
and  on  this  day  to  their  principles. 

“Those  runagates  are  holding  Christmas  revels  in 
spite  of  you,  Governor,”  remarked  Standish  half  jeer- 
mgly ; while  Hopkins,  whose  humor  just  now  was  not 
far  removed  from  mutiny,  muttered  that  if  godless 


318 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


men  were  to  play,  he  saw  not  why  good  Christians  should 
be  forced  to  work,  call  it  Christmas  Day  or  any  other. 

“You  are  right,  Hopkins,  although  somewhat  dis- 
courteous in  your  rectitude,”  replied  Bradford,  and  hast- 
ing forward  he  came  in  sight  of  the  Town  Square,  where 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  of  the  Fortune  passengers  were 
amusing  themselves  at  “ stool-ball,”  a kind  of  cricket,  at 
pitching  the  bar,  wrestling,  hopping-matches,  and  va- 
rious other  old  English  sports,  many  of  which  had  been 
encouraged  and  even  led  by  the  governor  in  the  late 
week  of  Thanksgiving.  But  now  advancing  into  the 
midst,  his  air  of  serene  authority  as  much  as  his  uplifted 
hand  imposing  silence  upon  the  merry  rebels,  who 
dropped  their  various  implements,  and  tried  in  vain  to 
appear  at  ease,  Bradford  looking  from  one  to  another 
quietly  said,  — 

“ I told  you  this  morning  that  if  you  made  the  keep- 
ing of  Christmas  Day  matter  of  conscience,  I should 
leave  you  alone  until  you  were  better  informed ; now, 
however,  I warn  you  that  it  goeth  against  my  conscience 
as  governor  of  this  colony  to  let  idle  men  play  while 
others  work,  and  if  indeed  you  find  matter  of  devotion 
in  the  day  ye  shall  keep  it  quietly  and  soberly  in  your 
housen.  There  shall  be  neither  reveling  nor  gaming 
in  the  streets,  and  that  I promise  you.  Let  whosoever 
owneth  these  toys  take  them  away  and  store  them  out 
of  sight ; and  remember,  men,  that  the  Apostle  saith, 
4 If  a man  will  not  work  neither  shall  he  eat.’  ” 

Silently  and  shamefacedly  the  revelers  collected  bats 
and  balls,  cricket  stools,  bars,  poles,  and  iron  weights, 
carrying  them  each  man  to  his  own  house,  and  in  the 
afternoon  the  chopping  party  was  augmented  by  nearly 
every  one  of  the  new-comers. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


a soldier’s  instinct. 

A year  and  more  from  that  Christmas  Day  has  sped, 
and  again  we  find  Bradford  and  Standish  with  Winslow 
gathered  together  at  the  governor’s  house,  resting  after 
the  labors  of  the  day,  smoking  the  consoling  pipe,  and 
even  tasting  from  time  to  time  the  contents  of  a square 
case  bottle,  which,  with  a jug  of  hot  water  and  a basin 
of  sugar  were  set  forth  upon  a curious  little  clawfooted 
table  worth  to-day  its  weight  in  gold  if  only  it  could 
have  survived. 

None  of  the  three  look  younger  than  they  did  when 
they  first  stepped  upon  the  Rock ; sun  and  wind,  and 
winter  storm  and  summer  heat  have  bronzed  their  Eng- 
lish complexions  and  deepened  the  lines  about  the  quiet 
steadfast  lips  and  anxious  eyes.  Already  Bradford’s 
shoulders  were  a little  bowed,  partly  by  the  burden  of  his 
responsibility,  partly  by  arduous  manual  labor,  but  upon 
his  face  had  grown  the  serenity  and  somewhat  of  the 
impassiveness  into  which  the  Egyptians  loved  to  mould 
the  features  of  their  kings,  — that  expression  which  of 
all  others  belongs  to  a man  who  uses  great  power  firmly 
and  decisively,  and  yet  looks  upon  himself  as  but  a 
steward,  who  soon  or  late  shall  be  called  to  render  a 
strict  account  of  his  stewardship. 

And  Winslow,  courtly,  learned,  and  fit  for  lofty  em- 
prise, how  bore  he  this  life  of  toil  and  privation,  this 


320 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


constant  contention  with  such  foes  as  famine,  and  dis- 
ease, and  squalor,  and  uncouth  savagery  ? Look  at  the 
portrait  painted  of  him  in  London  some  years  later, 
and  see  if  there  is  not  an  infinite  weariness,  a brooding 
Cui  bono  ? set  as  a seal  upon  those  haughty  features. 
Can  one  after  studying  that  face  much  wonder  that 
when  the  Massachusetts  Bay  authorities  in  1646  be- 
sought Plymouth  to  spare  their  sometime  governor,  their 
wise  and  astute  statesman,  to  arrange  the  Bay’s  quarrel 
with  the  Home  government,  Winslow  eagerly  accepted 
the  mission,  although  as  Bradford  sadly  records,  his  go- 
ing was  — “ much  to  the  weakening  of  this  government, 
without  whose  consent  he  took  these  employments  upon 
him.” 

So  well,  however,  did  he  fill  the  larger  sphere  for 
which  his  ambitious  nature  perhaps  had  secretly  pined, 
that  after  four  years  of  arduous  service  when  the  Massa- 
chusetts quarrel  was  well  adjusted,  and  Winslow  would 
have  returned  home,  President  Steele,  whom  he  had 
helped  to  found  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the 
Gospel,  wrote  to  the  Colonial  Commissioners  in  New 
England  that  although  Winslow  was  unwilling  to  be 
kept  longer  from  his  family,  he  could  not  yet  be  spared, 
because  his  great  acquaintance  and  influence  with  mem- 
bers of  Parliament  made  him  invaluable  to  the  work  in 
hand. 

Then  in  1652  the  Protector,  Oliver  Cromwell,  placed 
him  at  the  head  of  a committee  for  settling  a Dutch 
quarrel ; and  in  1655  the  same  power  named  him  gov- 
ernor of  Hispaniola,  and  dispatched  him  thither  with  a 
fleet  and  body  of  soldiers  to  conquer  and  take  possession 
of  his  new  territory.  But  General  Venable  in  command 
of  the  soldiers,  and  Admiral  Penn  in  command  of  the 


A SOLDIERS  INSTINCT. 


321 


fleet,  fell  to  loggerheads  as  to  which  was  the  other’s 
superior,  and  even  Winslow’s  diplomacy  could  not  heal 
the  breach ; so  the  attack  upon  Hispaniola  proved  a dis- 
graceful failure,  and  as  the  fleet  sailed  away  to  attack 
Jamaica,  the  Great  Commissioner,  as  they  called  him, 
fell  ill  of  chagrin  and  worry,  and  after  a few  days  of 
wild  delirium  wherein  he  stood  upon  Burying  Hill,  and 
drank  of  the  Pilgrims’  Spring,  and  spoke  loving  words 
to  the  wife  and  children  he  should  see  no  more,  he  died, 
and  was  committed  to  the  great  deep  with  a salute  of 
two-and-forty  guns,  and  never  a kiss  or  tear,  for  all  who 
loved  him  were  far  away. 

But  all  this  honor,  all  this  disaster,  lies  in  the  future, 
for  as  yet  Winslow  is  only  seven-and- twenty,  and  yet 
the  lines  of  ambition,  of  weariness,  of  hauteur  are  fore- 
shadowed upon  his  face  ; already  Time  with  his  light 
indelible  pencil  has  faintly  traced  the  furrows  he  by  and 
by  will  plow  that  all  who  run  may  read. 

Perhaps  the  least  change  of  all  is  that  upon  the  cap- 
tain’s face,  for  before  ever  he  landed  on  the  Rock  full 
twenty  years  of  a soldier’s  life  had  set  those  firm  lips, 
and  steadied  those  marvelous  eyes,  and  impressed  upon 
every  line  of  the  deep  bronzed  face  the  air  of  the  vig- 
ilant commander  who  was  both  born  and  bred  for  the 
post  he  fills  so  thoroughly.  If  any  change,  perhaps 
there  is  a softening  one,  for  those  keen  eyes  have  looked 
so  often  upon  misery  and  need,  and  so  little  upon  blood- 
shed in  these  three  last  years,  that  they  have  gained 
somewhat  of  tenderness,  somewhat  of  human  sympathy ; 
and  the  look  that  dying  men  and  women  have  strained 
their  glazing  eyes  to  see  to  the  last,  is  not  so  far  from 
the  surface  as  once  it  was.  But  the  governor  is  speak* 
ing,— 


322 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Yes,  my  friends,  I will  confess  to  feeling  more  than 
a little  uneasy  over  the  matter.  This  party  whom  our 
sometime  friend  Weston  hath  sent  over  to  settle  at  our 
very  doors  as  it  were,  and  to  steal  our  trade  with  the 
Indians,  and  so  hold  us  from  paying  off  our  debt  to  the 
Adventurers  ” — 

“ With  whom  he  was  still  to  abide  as  our  Advocate,” 
growled  Standish. 

“ Ay.  He  hath  doubtless  served  us  a sorry  turn  by 
not  only  dividing  himself  from  the  Adventurers,  but 
setting  up  a rival  trading -post  of  his  own,”  remarked 
Winslow. 

“ And  worse  than  that  is  this  news  Squanto  brings  in 
to-day,”  resumed  the  governor.  “ I mean  the  dealings 
of  those  new-comers  with  the  Indians.” 

“ Yes,  they  carry  themselves  like  both  knaves  and 
fools,  and  will  presently  find  their  own  necks  in  the 
noose,”  said  Standish  rapping  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe 
with  such  force  as  to  break  it. 

“ But  worse  again  than  that,”  suggested  Winslow 
quietly,  “is  the  danger  they  bring  upon  us.  Hobomok 
warneth  me  that  there  is  a wide  discontent  growing 
among  the  red  men,  springing  from  the  conduct  of  these 
men  at  Weymouth  as  they  call  it.  The  Neponsets  have 
suffered  robbery,  and  insult,  and  outrage  at  their  hands, 
and  both  the  Massachusetts  on  the  one  hand  and  the 
Pokanokets  on  the  other  are  in  sympathy  with  them. 
Then  you  will  see,  brethren,  that  Canonicus  with  his 
Narragansetts,  who  already  hath  sent  us  his  cartel  of 
defiance,  will  make  brief  alliance  with  Massasoit,  and 
all  will  combine  to  drive  every  white  man  from  the 
country.  There  is  hardly  any  bound  to  the  mischief 
these  roysterers  at  Weymouth  have  set^n  foot.” 


A SOLDIERS  INSTINCT . 


323 


“ And  Massasoit  no  longer  our  friend,  since  we  re- 
fused to  send  him  poor  Squanto’s  head,”  said  Bradford 
meditatively. 

“ Yes,”  laughed  the  captain.  “ ’T  is  food  for  mirth, 
were  a man  dying,  to  see  Squanto  skulk  at  our  heels  like 
a dog  who  sees  a lion  in  the  path.  He  hardly  dares 
step  outside  the  palisado,  for  fear  some  envoy  of  Massa- 
soit’s  shall  pounce  upon  him.” 

“ ’T  is  a good  lesson  to  teach  him  discretion,”  said 
Winslow.  “ Certes  he  stirred  up  strife  between  us  and 
the  sachem  with  his  cock-and-bull  stories.” 

“ Especially  when  he  sent  his  squaw  to  warn  us  that 
Canonicus  with  Massasoit  and  Corbitant  were  on  the 
way  from  Namasket  to  devour  us.” 

“ Ay,  no  wonder  Massasoit  was  aggrieved  at  being 
so  slandered,  and  could  he  have  got  Tisquantum  once 
within  his  clutches  ’t  would  have  gone  hard  with  the 
poor  fool.  But  never  burnt  child  dreaded  fire  as  he 
now  doth  the  outside  of  the  palisado.” 

“ Didst  hear,  Winslow,  that  t’  other  day  when  some  of 
us  were  unearthing  a keg  of  powder  buried  there  in  the 
Fort,  Squanto  and  a savage  guest  of  his  clomb  the  hill 
to  see  what  was  going  on  ? The  magazine  is  passably 
deep  as  you  know,  and  Squanto  himself  had  never  seen 
it  opened ; so  when  they  saw  Alden  hand  up  the  keg  to 
Hopkins,  the  guest  asked  in  the  Indian  tongue  what  was 
in  it,  and  Squanto  told  him ’t  was  the  plague  which  just 
before  our  coming  swept  the  land,  and  that  the  white 
men  had  captured  it  and  buried  it  here  upon  the  hill  to 
let  loose  upon  their  enemies ; and  in  the  end  the  knave 
got  a goodly  price  from  his  visitor  for  assurance  that 
the  plague  should  not  be  liberated  till  he  had  time  to 
reach  Sandwich.” 


824 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISB. 


All  three  men  laughed,  but  Bradford  said,  — “ I fear 
me  Squanto  hath  done  us  no  little  harm  with  his  double 
dealings,  his  jealousy  of  Hobomok,  and  his  craving  for 
bribes ; but  withal  he  hath  been  so  good  a friend  to  us, 
more  than  useful  at  the  first  when  we  knew  naught  of 
the  place  or  how  to  live,  or  plant,  or  fish,  that  I thought 
right  to  risk  even  Massasoit’s  enmity  rather  than  to 
give  our  poor  knave  up  to  his  wrath.” 

“ And  then  I never  can  forget,”  said  Winslow,  “ that 
Squanto  as  only  survivor  of  the  Patuxets  was  in  some 
sort  lord  of  the  soil  whereon  we  pitched.” 

“Yes  truly,”  responded  the  captain  with  a short 
laugh.  “ Like  myself  he  was  born  to  great  estates  and 
sees  them  enjoyed  by  others.” 

“ Well  then,  since  nothing  is  imminent  in  this  matter 
of  the  Weymouth  colonists  and  their  quarrel  with  the 
Indians,  we  had  better,  now  that  the  palisado  around 
the  town  is  complete  ” — 

“Gates,  bolts,  bastions,  all  complete  from  the  great 
rock  around  to  the  brook,”  interposed  Standish,  his  fig- 
ure visibly  dilating  with  satisfaction.  Bradford  smiled 
and  allowed  his  eyes  to  rest  affectionately  for  an  instant 
upon  his  comrade,  then  continued  in  a lighter  tone,  — 

“ So  having  fortified  your  hold,  Captain,  it  is  now  fit- 
ting that  you  should  provision  it.  Thou  knowest  how 
in  my  journeyings  last  month  I bought  and  stored  corn 
at  Nauset,  and  Manomet,  and  Barnstable,  and  now  that 
we  have  a moment’s  breathing  space,  it  were  well  that 
some  one  should  take  the  pinnace  and  fetch  it.  At 
the  same  time  there  will  be  good  occasion  to  feel  the 
pulse  of  the  various  chiefs,  and  determine  what  is  their 
intended  course  and  so  settle  our  own.” 

“ Nay,  Winslow  is  the  man  for  that  work,  Governor,” 


A SOLDIER'S  INSTINCT. 


325 


replied  the  captain  bluntly.  “ I will  go  and  get  the 
corn,  and  if  need  be  teach  the  savages  a lesson  upon  the 
dangers  of  plotting  and  conniving,  but  as  to  talking 
smoothly  with  men  who  are  lying  to  me  ” — 

“But  why  prejudge  them,  Captain,”  began  Wins- 
low, when  with  a tap  upon  the  door  Squanto  himself 
appeared  ushering  in  a strange  Indian  whom  he  fluently 
presented  as  a friend  of  his  who  had  come  with  great 
news.  Bidden  to  deliver  it,  the  stranger  stated  that  a 
great  Dutch  ship  had  gone  ashore  at  Sowams  (Bristol), 
and  would  be  wrecked  unless  help  could  be  had,  and 
this  could  not  be  given  by  the  Indians,  for  Massasoit  lay 
dying  and  no  one  would  stir  without  his  command. 

This  news  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs,  and  Wins- 
low was  at  once  appointed  to  pay  Massasoit  a visit  of 
inquiry,  and  in  case  of  his  death  to  make  an  alliance  if 
possible  with  Corbitant,  his  probable  successor  as  sachem 
of  the  Pokanokets.  He  also  was  to  see  the  commander 
of  the  Dutch  vessel,  and  in  case  of  a wreck  to  offer  the 
hospitality  of  Plymouth  to  the  sufferers,  for  in  case  of 
the  famine  narrowly  impending  over  the  colony,  the 
friendship  and  aid  of  the  Dutch  might  become  of  the 
last  importance.  Besides  this,  the  dangerous  Narragan« 
setts  were  known  to  have  made  alliance  with  the  Dutch, 
and  might  by  them  be  deterred  from  molesting  the  Plym 
outh  settlers  if  they  were  known  to  be  their  friends. 

“ And  so,  Myles,”  declared  Bradford  finding  himsel* 
alone  with  his  friend  at  the  end  of  the  informal  eoun-» 
cil,  “ thou  must  e’en  go  by  thyself  for  the  corn,  with 
what  men  thou  dost  call  for,  and  I doubt  not  we  shall 
find  thee  burgeon  into  a diplomatist  equal  at  least  to 
the  great  Cecil  or  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  ” — 

“ Ay,  and  that  minds  me,”  interrupted  Standish  “ of 


326 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


the  news  sent  us  by  good  Master  Huddlestone  of  the 
Betsey,  how  the  Virginia  savages  had  massacred  three 
hundred  and  forty-seven  of  Raleigh’s  settlers,  and  would 
have  made  an  end  of  them  but  for  warning  given  by  a 
friendly  Indian.” 

“ Ay,  it  was  heavy  news,  and  a timely  warning,”  said 
the  governor  losing  his  air  of  gayety  and  sighing 
deeply.  “And  if  indeed  Weston’s  men  have  angered 
the  Neponsets  to  the  pitch  we  fear,  the  news  of  this  Vir- 
ginia success  will  embolden  them  to  undertake  the  same 
revenge.  Be  wary,  Standish,  and  very  gentle  in  thy 
dealings.  If  war  is  determined,  let  it  be  entered  upon 
deliberately  and  formally ; take  not  the  matter  into  thine 
own  hands  and  mayhap  lose  us  our  commander  just  at 
the  onset.” 

“ Ay  Will,  ‘ I ’ll  roar  thee  gently  ’ as  any  sucking 
dove,  an’  there  seemeth  need  to  roar  at  all.” 

“ Best  not  roar  at  all  until  all  thy  comrades  may  join 
in  unison,”  and  once  more  Bradford’s  face  lighted  with 
its  peculiar  smile,  the  sort  of  smile  one  might  bestow 
upon  his  double  should  he  meet  him  and  address  him 
with  a jest  unknown  to  any  other. 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  the  next  morning’s  rising 
sun  saw  two  important  expeditions  leaving  the  hamlet 
in  opposite  directions.  Toward  the  dark  and  almost 
pathless  woods  at  the  North  marched  Winslow  accom- 
panied by  Master  John  Hampden,  then  visiting  the  col- 
ony and  studying  the  science  of  republican  government 
in  its  most  perfect,  because  most  simple,  development. 
With  them  went  Hobomok  as  guide  and  interpreter,  and 
after  them  went  the  tearful  prayers  of  Susanna  Wins- 
low, who  loved  her  new  lord  better  than  she  had  the 
father  of  baby  Peregrine  toddling  at  her  side,  as  she 


A SOLDIER’S  INSTINCT. 


327 


stood  in  the  cabin  door  to  gaze  after  the  little  group  al- 
ready almost  out  of  sight,  and  making  now  for  the 
“ Massachusetts  trail  ” where  it  crosses  Jones’s  River  in 
Kingston.  And  as  one  driving  over  that  pleasant  road 
which  now  intersects  the  old  trail  pauses  to  look  up  its 
green  ascent,  or  on  across  the  placid  stream  it  forded, 
does  he  not  almost  catch  sight  of  the  goodly  forms  of 
those  young  men,  quaintly  clad  in  doublet  and  hose  and 
the  wide  hats  or  the  close  barret  caps  of  the  day,  led 
by  the  sleek  slender  savage  who  patiently  stood  by, 
while  Winslow  turned  and  pointed  out  the  beauties  of 
sea  and  shore  to  his  thoughtful  companion. 

“ A pleasant  sight,  a goodly  scene,”  said  Hampden, 
as  at  last  they  turned  away  and  struck  into  the  dense 
forest.  “ If  it  be  God’s  will  I for  one  shall  be  well 
content  to  return  hither  and  end  my  days.” 

“ And  yet  there  is  world’s  work  to  do  yonder  for  a 
man  with  an  eye  to  read  the  times,”  said  Winslow  fling- 
ing a hand  eastward. 

“ No  wife  or  child  to  see  me  off,  Mistress  Winslow,” 
said  the  captain  as  he  passed  the  door  where  Susanna 
lingered,  and  she,  smiling  with  the  tear  in  her  eye,  an- 
swered pleasantly,  — 

“ Then  why  not  purvey  thee  one,  Captain  Standish  ? 
Well  I wot  you  need  not  long  go  a-begging.” 

“Nay,  none  will  look  on  a battered  old  soldier  when 
fresh  young  faces  are  at  hand,”  replied  Standish  casting 
a whimsical  glance  after  Alden  who  preceded  him  down 
the  hill,  while  the  matron  shook  her  head  murmuring,  — 
“ Such  fools  as  maids  will  be  ! ” 

Besides  Alden,  the  captain  had  chosen  five  men, 
enough  to  man  the  boat,  and  to  make  a good  defense  in 


328 


STANDISH  OF  STAND1SH. 


case  of  attack,  but  among  these  he  had  included  none  of 
the  fire-eaters,  none  of  the  independent  souls  of  the 
little  colony.  Alden,  to  whom  the  captain  had  given 
the  names  of  those  to  be  summoned,  had  noted  this  fea- 
ture of  the  selection,  and  ventured  to  comment  upon  it 
approvingly. 

“Ay,  lad,”  replied  his  master  with  a grim  smile. 
“ ’T  is  a service  of  danger,  and  a service  of  diplomacy, 
and  I must  have  my  force  well  in  hand  with  no  danger 
of  a baulk  from  within.  Dost  know  how  the  Romans 
conquered  the  world  ? I bade  thee  study  my  Caesar  in 
thy  leisure  moments.” 

“ By  power  to  command,  Master  ? ” 

“Nay,  boy,  but  by  power  to  obey.  Their  forces 
moved  as  one  man,  as  a grand  machine,  and  so  they 
carried  the  Roman  eagles  to  all  the  known  world. 
There ’s  the  model  of  a Roman  soldier  in  that  big  Book 
yonder.  He  says  to  his  Sovereign  Lord/ Give  not  your- 
self the  inconvenience  of  coming  to  heal  my  servant,  but 
send  some  spirit  to  carry  the  command.  I know  how 
it  is ; I also  am  under  the  commands  of  my  general,  and 
men  are  under  me.  I say  to  this  one,  Go,  and  he  goeth ; 
and  to  the  other,  Come,  and  he  cometh ; and  to  my  ser- 
vant, Do  this,  and  he  doeth  it/  There ’s  the  model  of 
a soldier  for  }mu,  J ohn  Alden  ; perfect  obedience  ren- 
dered, perfect  obedience  expected,  perfect  faith  in  the 
commander-in-chief.  Now,  then,  off  upon  your  errand, 
sir,  and  mind  you  tarry  not  at  the  Elder’s  house.  There 
is  no  errand  there.” 

The  shallop’s  first  port  was  Nauset,  and  here,  although 
the  corn  was  obtained  and  loaded  without  difficulty,  a 
thief  stole  some  clothes  from  the  boat  while  it  was  for 
the  moment  unguarded ; and  finding  mild  words  of  no 


A SOLDIERS  INSTINCT. 


329 


avail  in  their  recovery,  Standish  sought  Aspinet,  who  was 
encamped  at  a little  distance  from  the  shore,  and  ref  us-* 
ing  all  hospitality  or  friendly  conversation  roundly  an- 
nounced that  unless  the  missing  articles  were  restored 
without  delay  he  should  at  once  make  sail  for  Plymouth 
and  declare  war  upon  the  whole  tribe. 

Marching  down  to  his  boat  closely  followed  by  Alden 
the  captain  suddenly  paused  and  struck  his  heel  upon 
the  ground. 

“ Now  then,  I was  to  roar  like  a dove,  and  I have 
howled  like  any  wolf ! And  I to  preach  obedience ! 
nay  then,  John,  thou  ’rt  free  to  flout  me  as  thou  wilt.” 

“ But,  Captain,  so  far  as  I heard  the  governor’s  com- 
mand it  was  only  to  fetch  some  corn,”  suggested  Alden 
slyly.  “ All  else  was  left  at  your  discretion,  as  indeed 
all  matters  military  are.  Such  was  the  tenor  of  the 
vote  that  made  you  our  Captain.” 

“Come,  now,  John,  that’s  not  ill  thought  on;  that’s 
not  so  dull  as  might  be,”  replied  the  captain  glancing 
merrily  at  his  follower.  “ Thou  ’st  been  studying  under 
Winslow  as  well  as  Standish.  Well,  then,  let  us  wait 
and  see  what  comes  of  my  roar.” 

An  hour  later  as  the  boat’s  crew  sat  around  their 
camp-fire  eating  their  frugal  dinner,  the  sound  of  many 
feet  was  heard  breaking  through  the  neighboring  thick- 
ets, and  Standish  with  a glance  at  Alden  said  quietly,  — 
“Stand  to  your  arms,  men,  but  softly  and  without 
offense  until  we  see  the  need.  The  savages  are  in  force.” 
But  as  it  turned  out  the  force  was  but  a guard  of 
honor  to  Aspinet,  who  came  in  state,  followed  by  two 
women  bringing  the  stolen  coats  elaborately  bound 
around  with  gayly  colored  withes ; these  they  at  once 
took  on  board  and  laid  in  the  cuddy,  while  Aspinet 


330 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


improving  upon  Tisquantum’s  former  lessons  as  to  the 
mode  of  saluting  sovereigns  seized  upon  Standish’s 
hand,  and  much  to  his  disgust  licked  it  from  wrist  to 
fingers,  at  the  same  time  bending  his  knee  in  uncouth 
genuflection. 

“ Enough,  enough,  Aspinet,”  exclaimed  the  captain 
half  laughing,  half  revolted  at  the  homage.  “ The  coats 
are  returned  I see  ” — 

“And  I have  much  beaten  him  who  took  them,” 
averred  Aspinet  complacently.  “And  Aspinet  is  the 
friend  of  the  white  men  though  all  other  Indians  turn 
against  them.” 

“ Why,  that  is  well,  sachem,”  replied  Standish,  who 
was  already  able  to  converse  freely  with  the  red  men  in 
their  own  tongue.  “ Keep  you  to  that  mind,  and  hold 
your  tribe  to  it,  and  no  harm ’s  done.  And  now  men,  all 
aboard,  and  we  will  be  off.” 

With  a fair  wind  the  shallop  soon  made  Barnstable 
or  Mattachiest,  and  here  Iyanough  (or  Janno)  met  them 
on  landing  with  protestations  of  welcome  so  profuse  and 
unusual  that  the  captain  was  at  once  upon  his  guard,  es- 
pecially as  he  noticed  among  the  crowd  many  new  faces 
which  he  was  confident  belonged  to  Massachusetts  In- 
dians. Night  falling  before  the  corn  could  be  loaded, 
and  ice  making  so  suddenly  as  to  freeze  the  shallop  in 
before  she  fairly  floated,  the  captain  was  obliged  to  ac- 
cept an  invitation  for  himself  and  crew  to  sleep  in  one 
of  the  Indian  huts;  but  as  the  chief  with  some  of  his 
principal  men  escorted  them  to  it,  Standish’s  quick  eye 
surprised  a glance  between  one  of  the  strangers  and  a 
Pamet  Indian  called  Kamuso,  who  had  always  appeared 
to  be  one  of  the  warmest  friends  of  the  white  men,  but 
in  whose  manner  to-night  Standish  felt  something  of 
treachery  and  evil  intention. 


A SOLDIERS  INSTINCT. 


331 


And  he  was  right,  for  Kamuso  had  been  won  ove> 
to  the  conspiracy  beginning  with  the  Narragansetts  and 
extending  all  the  way  down  the  Cape,  and  so  soon  as 
runners  from  the  Nausets  had  warned  the  Mattakees 
that  Standish  and  a small  crew  were  about  to  land 
among  them,  it  was  agreed  that  now  was  the  best  time 
to  cut  off  The-Sword-of-the-White-Men,  and  so  deprive 
the  colony  of  one  of  its  principal  safeguards.  Janno 
himself  would  fain  have  spared  Standish,  with  whom 
he  had  ever  been  on  friendly  terms;  but  Kamuso  so 
wrought  upon  the  Mattakee  warriors  that  their  sachem 
was  forced  either  to  drop  the  reins  altogether  or  to 
suffer  his  unruly  steeds  to  take  their  own  course.  Like 
Pontius  Pilate  he  chose  the  latter  course,  and  to  his 
own  destruction.  Before  the  pinnace  was  anchored, 
the  plan  of  the  massacre  was  fully  laid,  and  Kamuso 
had  claimed  the  glory  of  killing  The  Sword  with  his 
own  hand. 

But  the  subtle  instinct  which  was  Standish’s  sixth 
sense  warned  him  of  some  unknown  danger,  and  having 
carefully  inspected  the  wigwam  offered  to  his  use,  he 
directed  that  the  fire  newly  kindled  outside  the  door 
should  be  extinguished ; and  while  the  Indians  officiously 
busied  themselves  in  doing  this,  the  captain  by  a word> 
a look,  a sign,  drew  his  men  inside  the  hut,  and  rapidly 
conveyed  to  them  his  suspicions,  and  enjoined  the  great- 
est caution  upon  all. 

“The  fire  would  have  bewrayed  our  forms  to  archers 
hidden  in  yonder  thicket,”  added  he.  “ And  as  I will 
have  half  to  watch  while  the  others  sleep,  the  watch 
must  keep  themselves  under  shelter  of  the  cabin  and 
away  from  any  chance  of  ambush.” 

Murmurs  of  wrath,  of  wonder,  but  of  acquiescence 


332 


STANDISH  OF  S TANDISH. 


arose  from  the  half  dozen  bearded  throats  around,  and 
the  captain  at  once  set  the  watch,  to  be  relieved  every 
two  hours.  In  vain  Janno  offered  another  wigwam 
if  this  were  too  small,  and  urged  that  all  his  white 
brothers  should  sleep  at  once  while  his  own  men 
watched ; in  vain  Kamuso  tried  to  attach  himself  to  the 
party  inside,  meaning  to  stab  the  captain  in  his  sleep ; 
without  a show  of  anger  or  suspicion  Standish  put  both 
attempts  aside,  and  finally  with  a jeering  laugh  advised 
Janno  to  retire  to  his  own  wigwam  and  to  order  his 
braves  to  do  the  same,  for  some  of  the  white  men  as  he 
averred  were  given  to  discharging  their  pieces  in  their 
sleep,  or  at  any  shadow  that  came  within  range,  and  it 
might  happen  that  some  of  his  friends  should  thus  come 
by  harm,  which  would  be  a great  grief  to  him. 

“ The  Sword  has  pierced  our  intention,”  said  Janno 
to  Kamuso  in  their  own  tongue  as  the  two  withdrew. 
“ Better  give  it  up.  He  has  eyes  all  around  him.” 

“ I will  kill  him,”  retorted  Kamuso  sullenly.  “ To- 
night, to-morrow,  next  week,  — I will  kill  him.” 

The  next  day  so  soon  as  the  shallop  floated  and  was 
loaded  Standish  embarked,  sick  at  heart  as  he  received 
the  slavish  homage  of  Janno,  whom  he  had  liked  and 
trusted  so  much,  and  who  even  while  he  yielded  to  the 
plot  for  the  captain’s  death  and  that  of  all  his  friends 
really  clung  to  him  in  love  and  reverence.  Poor  Janno, 
weak  but  not  wicked,  his  punishment  was  both  swift  and 
stern  ; for  fleeing  a little  later  from  the  vengeance  of  the 
white  men,  he  perished  miserably  among  the  swamps 
and  thickets  of  Barnstable,  and  his  lonely  grave  was 
only  lately  discovered.  Go  and  look  at  his  bones  in  Pil- 
grim Hall  at  Plymouth  and  muse  upon  the  dangers  of 
cowardice  and  weakness. 


A SOLDIERS  INSTINCT. 


333 


As  the  shallop  pushed  off  from  shore,  an  Indian  came 
running  down  the  beach,  and  with  a cat-like  spring 
leaped  upon  the  deck.  It  was  Kamuso,  who  said  he 
was  bound  for  Sandwich  and  would  beg  a passage  in 
the  pinnace. 

A sudden  spark  kindled  in  the  captain’s  red-brown 
eyes  and  one  hand  tugged  impatiently  at  his  moustache, 
but  he  said  nothing,  and  the  Indian  proceeded  to  make 
himself  useful  in  a variety  of  ways;  and  as  the  wind 
was  favorable  and  the  distance  short,  Standish  made  no 
open  objection  to  the  company  of  the  spy,  but  busied 
himself  with  freshly  charging  his  weapons,  and  curiously 
examining  every  inch  of  Gideon’s  shining  blade. 

A little  after  noon  the  shallop  made  the  harbor  of 
Sandwich,  or  as  the  Pilgrims  called  it  Manomet,  and 
Standish  at  once  went  ashore,  eager  to  see  if  Canacum 
shared  in  the  wide-spread  disaffection  of  the  Indians. 
But  ten  minutes  in  the  sachem’s  wigwam  convinced 
the  wary  observer  that  something  was  wrong,  for  the 
old  friendliness  of  manner  had  given  place  to  restraint 
and  formality  ; and  although  Canacum  was  very  ready 
to  deliver  the  corn,  and  professed  great  pleasure  at  the 
captain’s  visit,  his  voice  and  manner  were  both  cold  and 
false,  and  such  of  his  braves  as  came  into  the  wigwam 
showed  a very  different  face  from  what  Standish  had 
hitherto  encountered. 

Suddenly  a sound  was  heard  without,  and  as  the  cap- 
tain sprang  to  his  feet  and  laid  his  hand  upon  Gideon’s 
hilt,  the  door-mat  was  thrust  aside,  and  two  Indians  rec- 
ognized by  their  paint  as  Neponsets  entered  the  cabin. 
Canacum  received  them  with  effusive  cordiality,  and 
presented  the  principal  one  to  Standish  as  Wituwamat 
a pniese  of  the  Neponsets. 


334 


STANDI SH  OF  STANDISH. 


Standish  received  the  careless  salutation  of  the  new- 
comer in  silent  gravity,  and  stepping  to  the  door  sum- 
moned Howland  and  Alden  to  his  side,  first  however 
sending  a message  to  the  boat-keepers  to  be  well  on 
guard  against  a surprise. 

Returning  into  the  hut  with  his  two  friends,  the  cap- 
tain found  Wituwamat  upon  his  feet  beginning  an  im- 
passioned harangue  to  Canacum,  who  listened  uneasily. 
Standish  was  already  an  excellent  Indian  scholar,  and 
could  converse  in  several  dialects  with  great  ease  ; but  so 
soon  as  he  appeared  Wituwamat  fell  into  a style  so  figu- 
rative and  blind,  and  took  pains  to  use  such  unusual  and 
obsolete  expressions,  that  Canacum  himself  could  hardly 
understand  him,  and  Standish  was  soon  left  hopelessly 
in  the  background.  At  a later  day,  however,  one  of  the 
warriors  then  present  repeated  to  the  captain  the  amount 
of  the  Neponset’s  message,  which  was  that  Obtakiest, 
sachem  of  the  Neponsets,  had  entered  into  a solemn  com- 
pact with  Canonicus,  sachem  of  the  Narragansetts,  to  cut 
off  the  Weymouth  colonists,  root  and  branch  ; but  that  as 
the  Plymouth  men  would  assuredly  revenge  their  breth- 
ren, it  was  necessary  that  they  should  perish  as  well, 
and  that  while  the  two  chiefs  mentioned  advanced  upon 
the  settlement  from  the  west,  they  invited  Canacum, 
Janno,  and  Aspinet  to  fall  upon  them  from  the  east,  and 
having  slain  man  and  boy  to  equably  divide  the  women 
and  other  plunder.  As  earnest  of  his  authority  Witu- 
wamat here  presented  Canacum  with  a knife  stolen  or 
bought  from  the  Weymouth  settlers,  and  jeeringly  said 
the  coward  pale  faces  had  brought  over  the  weapons 
that  should  cut  their  own  throats. 

Having  thus  delivered  his  message,  the  Neponset  in- 
dulged himself  in  a burst  of  self-glorification,  boasting 


A SOLDIERS  INSTINCT . 


335 


that  he  had  in  his  day  killed  both  French  and  English- 
men, and  that  he  found  the  sport  very  amusing,  for  they 
died  crying  and  making  wry  faces  more  like  children 
than  men. 

“What  is  the  impudent  villain  saying,  and  what 
means  that  knife,  Captain  ? ” muttered  Howland  in  the 
captain’s  ear,  but  he  shaking  his  head  impatiently  re- 
plied, — 

“He  means  violence  and  treachery  of  some  sort,  but 
what  form  it  takes  I wot  not.  Be  on  your  guard, 
John.” 

The  harangue  ended,  refreshments  were  served,  but 
the  Neponsets  were  now  treated  with  so  much  more 
courtesy  and  attention  than  the  white  men  that  Stan- 
dish  refusing  the  poorer  portion  offered  to  him  and  his 
comrades, rose  and  indignantly  left  the  cabin,  ordering 
his  men  to  construct  a shelter  near  the  beach,  and  there 
cook  some  of  the  provisions  they  had  brought.  But 
they  had  hardly  begun  to  do  this  when  Kamuso  ap- 
peared, full  of  indignant  protests  at  Canacum’s  inhospi- 
tality, and  loudly  declaring  that  an  affront  to  his  friends 
was  an  affront  to  him,  and  he  should  desert  the  wigwam 
where  the  red  men  were  feasting,  and  share  the  hum- 
bler fare  of  his  white  friends. 

“Well,  I wish  thou  hadst  brought  along  a kettle  to 
cook  some  corn  in  ! ” exclaimed  Standish  with  something 
of  his  old  joviality  of  manner,  for  his  suspicions  in  falling 
upon  Canacum  had  in  some  degree  lifted  from  Kamuso, 
who  certainly  played  his  part  with  wonderful  skill,  and 
had  he  been  white  instead  of  red,  and  civilized  instead 
of  savage,  might  have  left  his  name  on  record  as  a di- 
plomatist beside  that  of  Machiavelli  or  Ignatius  Loyola. 

44  A kettle  ! My  brother  would  like  a kettle ! ” ex- 


336 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


claimed  he  now.  “Nay,  a friend  of  mine  hath  one 
which  I will  buy  of  him  and  present  to  The  Sword.  I 
am  rich,  I Kamuso,  and  can  make  rich  presents  to  those 
I love.” 

And  rushing  back  to  the  wigwams,  he  presently  re- 
turned with  a good-sized  brass  kettle,  which  he  ostenta- 
tiously laid  at  the  captain’s  feet,  refusing  the  handful 
of  beads  Standish  offered  in  return. 

“ Hm  ! ” growled  the  captain.  “ That ’s  not  in  nature. 
Alden  use  the  kettle  an’  thou  wilt,  but  after,  return  it  to 
the  Pamet.  We  ’ll  not  have  them  making  a Benjamin’s 
sack  of  our  shallop.” 

After  dinner  Standish  so  peremptorily  demanded  that 
his  corn  should  at  once  be  put  aboard  that  Canacum 
could  do  nothing  but  yield.  The  squaws  were  sum- 
moned, and  John  Alden  stood  by  with  pencil  and  paper, 
keeping  tally  as  each  delivered  her  basket -full  on  the 
beach,  while  Howland  standing  mid-leg  deep  in  the  icy 
water  shot  it  over  the  gunwale. 

“ Here  men,  bear  a hand,  and  let  us  get  this  thing 
over  and  be  off,”  commanded  Standish,  himself  seizing 
a full  basket  and  motioning  Dotey  to  another. 

“ And  I,  and  I,  my  brother  ! ” exclaimed  Kamuso  in 
his  loud  braggadocio  manner  as  he  awkwardly  lifted  a 
third.  “ Never  in  all  my  life  have  I done  squaw’s  work, 
for  I am  a brave,  I am  a pniese,  but  what  my  brother 
does  I do.” 

“ Nay,  ’t  is  too  much  honor ! ” replied  Standish  with 
his  grimmest  smile  ; “ especially  as  thou  art  somewhat 
awkward  ” — 

And  in  effect  the  Pamet  as  he  tried  to  swing  the  full 
basket  off  his  shoulder  lost  his  hold,  and  the  corn  came 
showering  down  upon  the  sand.  At  length,  however, 


A SOLDIER’S  INSTINCT. 


337 


the  tale  was  complete,  and  as  the  tide  was  out,  and 
night  coming  on,  the  captain  decided  to  camp  once 
more  upon  the  beach,  refusing  somewhat  curtly  the 
pressing  invitation  sent  by  Canacum  that  the  white  men 
should  sleep  in  his  house.  And  once  more  Kamuso 
loudly  proclaimed  that  he  was  of  the  white  men’s  party 
and  should  share  their  quarters  wherever  they  might  be. 
Standish  silently  permitted  him  to  do  as  he  would,  but, 
as  on  the  previous  evening,  he  divided  the  little  company 
into  watches,  one  to  sleep  and  one  to  stand  on  guard. 

“So  soon  as  he  sleeps  I shall  kill  him,”  muttered 
Kamuso  to  Wituwamat,  as  they  secretly  met  behind 
Canacum’s  wigwam.  “ Give  me  now  the  knife  sent  by 
Obtakiest.” 

“Here  it  is,  brother,  and  when  it  is  red  with  the 
blood  of  The  Sword  it  shall  be  thine  own.  Else  it  re- 
turns to  him  who  sends  it.” 

“ It  shall  be  red,  it  shall  drink,  it  shall  drip  with  the 
brave  blood,  it  shall  shine  as  the  sun  rising  across  the 
waters!  It  shall  feast,  and  Kamuso  shall  be  chief  of 
Obtakiest’s  pnieses ; yes,  he  shall  be  sachem  of  the  Mas- 
sachusetts ! ” 

Wituwamat  made  no  reply  in  words,  but  as  he  turned 
away  shivered  heavily.  Perhaps  a premonition  of  his 
own  terrible  fate  crossed  his  brain,  perhaps  the  hooting 
of  the  owl  just  then  skimming  across  the  thicket  stirred 
his  superstitious  fancy,  but  without  a word  he  reentered 
the  wigwam;  and  Kamuso  concealing  the  knife  went 
back  to  the  randevous,  where  already  the  first  watch 
slept,  and  Standish,  in  command  of  the  second,  stood 
beside  the  fire  leaning  on  his  snaphance,  and,  deep  in 
meditation  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  approaching  savage 
so  sternly  that  he  believing  that  all  was  discovered  was 


338 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


on  the  point  of  springing  at  his  prey,  and  risking  all 
upon  one  sudden  blow,  when  the  captain,  awaking  from 
his  reverie,  sighed  profoundly,  and  perceiving  for  the 
first  time  Kamuso’s  approach  quietly  said,  — 

“ So  it  is  thee,  Pamet ! Go  back  and  sleep  warm  in 
the  wigwams  of  the  Mattakees.  We  need  no  help  here.” 

“ Kamuso  is  no  Mattakee ; Kamuso  is  the  friend  of 
the  white  men.  While  The  Sword  wakes,  Kamuso  will 
gaze  upon  him  and  learn  how  to  become  the  terror  of 
his  foes.” 

“ ’T  is  easier  to  be  the  terror  of  one’s  foes  than  the 
delight  of  one’s  friends,”  muttered  Standish  gloomily, 
and  then  pulling  himself  together  he  stirred  the  embers 
with  his  heel,  and  throwing  on  more  wood  said  care- 
lessly, — 

“ E’en  as  thou  wilt,  Kamuso,  go  or  stay,  watch  or 
sleep,  ’t  is  all  one  to  me.” 

And  marching  up  and  down  the  strip  of  level  beach 
the  soldier  hummed  an  old  ballad  song  of  Man,  which 
Rose  had  loved  to  sing,  and  clean  forgot  the  savage 
who,  crouching  in  the  shadow,  fingered  the  knife  hilt 
hidden  in  his  waist  cloth,  and  never  removed  the  gaze 
of  his  snaky  eyes  from  the  figure  of  his  destined  prey. 

The  night  went  on,  and  Standish  waked  the  second 
watch  and  dismissed  the  first,  but  still  himself  took  no 
rest,  nor  felt  the  need  of  it,  as  he  paced  up  and  down,  his 
outward  senses  alert  to  the  smallest  sign,  and  his  mem- 
ory roaming  at  will  over  scenes  for  many  years  forgot ; 
over  boyhood’s  eager  days,  his  mother’s  tenderness,  his 
father’s  death  upon  a French  battle-field,  his  own  early 
days  as  a soldier,  his  home-coming  to  find  Barbara  act- 
ing a daughter’s  part  to  the  dying  mother  — Rose  — ah 
Rose ! He  stood  a moment  at  the  point  of  his  promenad : 


A SOLDIERS  INSTINCT. 


339 


furthest  from  the  randevous,  his  back  to  the  fire,  his  gaze 
fixed  upon  the  sea  whose  lapping  waves  seemed  whisper- 
ing with  sobbing  sighs,  Rose  ! — Rose  ! — Rose  ! — 

A faint  sound  upon  the  shingle  caught  the  outward 
ear  of  the  soldier,  and  wheeling  instinctively  he  faced 
the  Pamet,  who  with  his  hand  upon  the  hilt  of  the 
dagger  had  crept  up  to  within  six  feet  of  his  victim, 
and  already  had  selected  the  spot  between  those  square 
shoulders  where  the  fatal  blow  should  be  planted. 

“ Ha  savage  ! What  does  this  mean  ! Why  are  you 
tracking  me ! ” demanded  the  captain  angrily,  but  the 
wily  Indian,  instead  of  starting  back  and  betraying 
himself  by  terror,  advanced  quietly,  not  even  removing 
his  hand  from  the  hidden  knife  hilt,  and  answered 
smoothly  in  his  own  tongue,  — 

“ The  red  man’s  moccason  sounds  not  upon  the  sand 
as  the  white  man’s  boot.  I did  but  come  to  ask  my 
lord  if  he  will  not  rest  at  all.  Midnight  is  long  past, 
and  the  day  must  bring  its  labors.  Will  not  The  Sword 
sheath  for  a while  his  intolerable  splendor  in  sleep, 
while  his  slave  watches  for  him  ? ” 

“ Why,  Kamuso,  thou  ’rt  more  than  eloquent ! Pity 
but  thou  shouldst  be  trained,  and  brought  to  London  to 
show  off  before  the  King ! ” laughed  Standish.  “ But 
sleep  and  I have  quarreled  for  to-night.  I know  not 
how  it  is,  but  never  after  a sound  night’s  rest  did  I feel 
more  fresh  and  on  the  alert.  Go  thou  and  sleep  if 
thou  ’rt  sleepy,  but  come  not  creeping  after  me  again, 
or  I ’ll  send  thee  packing ! I like  not  such  surprises.” 

“ The  will  of  my  lord  is  the  will  of  his  slave,”  meekly 
replied  Kamuso,  and  crept  back  to  his  former  sheltered 
nook  beside  the  fire.  The  chill  March  night  grew  on 
toward  morning,  the  east  reddened  with  an  angry  glarej 


340 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


the  solemn  stars  wheeled  on  their  appointed  courses,  and 
Mars,  who  had  held  the  morning  watch,  gave  way  to 
Sol,  bidding  him  have  a care  of  his  son,  whom  he  had 
left  gazing  with  sleepless  eyes  across  the  waters  to  the 
East. 

“ Up,  men  ! ,rr  is  morning  at  last,  and  surely  never 
was  a night  so  long  as  this.  Up,  and  let  us  break  our 
fast  and  be  off  within  the  hour ! ” 

So  cried  the  captain,  and  in  a moment  all  his  com 
mand  was  afoot  and  active.  Kamuso,  his  face  black 
with  sullen  rage,  retreated  to  the  wigwams  to  confess 
his  defeat  to  Wituwamat  and  Canacum,  who  listening 
said  quietly,  — 

“ His*  totem  is  too  strong  for  us.  The  Sword  will 
never  fall  before  the  tomahawk.” 

“ It  is  because  he  is  so  strong  that  Obtakiest  took  a 
knife  of  the  white  man’s  make  and  use,  and  sent  it.  The 
powah  that  charmed  the  weapons  of  The  Sword  may 
have  charmed  this  knife  also.” 

And  Kamuso  drawing  the  Weymouth  knife  from  his 
belt  regarded  it  with  disgust  for  a moment,  then  thrust- 
ing it  back  into  his  belt  doggedly  declared,  — 

“ But  all  is  not  over.  Wait,  my  brothers,  wait  for 
the  end,  and  then  say  if  Kamuso  is  a fool.” 

As  the  pinnace  drew  out  of  Manomet  Harbor  Stan- 
dish  for  the  first  time  perceived  that  the  Pamet  was 
aboard  her,  and  rather  sharply  demanded,  — 

“ Whither  bound  now,  Kamuso  ? Thou  didst  but  ask 
passage  to  Manomet.” 

“ My  white  brothers  have  not  all  the  corn  they  need, 
have  they?”  asked  the  Indian,  an  air  of  humble  sym- 
pathy pervading  his  voice  and  manner. 

“ Nay.  If  the  famine  we  forebode  is  upon  us  we  need 


A SOLDIER'S  INSTINCT.  341 

twice,  thrice,  as  much  as  this,  before  the  harvest  not  yet 
sown  is  ready  for  use.” 

“ For  that  then  is  Kamuso  here.  At  Nauset,  Aspinet 
hath  great  store  of  corn  hidden  from  the  white  men, 
but  it  is  not  his  alone,  it  is  mine,  it  is  the  tribe’s,  it  is 
The  Sword’s.  Let  my  lord  come  to  Nauset  and  I will 
have  his  canoe  filled  to  the  brim,  there  shall  not  be  room 
to  put  in  one  grain  more  — Kamuso  says  it.” 

“ Hm  ! That  would  be  a matter  of  fifty  bushels  or 
more,”  replied  Standish  literally.  “ What  say  you, 
Howland  ? What  is  your  mind,  men  ? ” 

Various  brief  replies  showed  that  the  mind  of  the 
crew  was  to  obey  the  captain’s  orders,  and  after  a mo- 
ment’s thought  he  muttered  to  Howland  in  Dutch,  — 

“ I like  not  this  fellow’s  carriage.  He  is  too  smooth 
to  be  honest,  and  yet  what  can  one  wretched  savage  do 
against  seven  men  armed  and  on  their  watch  ? But  pass 
the  word  among  the  rest  to  be  wary,  and  Alden,  I leave 
it  in  charge  to  thee,  lad,  in  case  the  savage  treacher- 
ously smites  me  as  I think  he  meant  last  night,  do  thou 
avenge  me.” 

“ He  ’ll  not  breathe  thrice  after  his  blow,  Master,”  re- 
plied Alden  in  his  deepest  tones. 

“ Well  said,  lad ; but  gentle  thy  face  and  eke  thy 
voice,  or  he  ’ll  suspect.  Now  then,  lads,  put  her  before 
this  western  wind,  and  ho  for  Nauset  once  more ! ” 

The  command  was  obeyed,  but  lo  the  wind,  which  had 
since  sunrise  blown  softly  from  the  south  of  west  mak- 
ing a fair  breeze  for  Nauset  near  the  end  of  the  Cape, 
now  suddenly  hauled  round  with  angry  gusts  and  gath- 
ering mists,  until  it  stood  in  the  northeast  right  in  the 
teeth  of  the  shallop’s  course,  while  every  sign  of  sky  and 
sea  foreboded  a gathering  storm. 


342 


STANDISE  OF  STAND1SH . 


4£  His  totem  is  too  strong,”  muttered  the  Pamet  in  his 
throat,  and  the  hand  beneath  his  garment  clinching  the 
handle  of  the  dagger  seized  with  it  a handful  of  his  own 
flesh  and  griped  it  savagely,  while  in  silence  he  called 
upon  his  gods  for  help. 

But  none  came,  more  than  to  the  priests  of  Baal  what 
time  Elijah  jeered  them,  and  after  a brief  consultation 
with  his  crew  Standish  once  more  altered  his  course, 
and  the  pinnace  with  double-reefed  sails  flew  before 
the  rising  wind  like  a hunted  creature  to  her  covert, 
bearing  The-Sword-of-the-White-Men  safely  to  his  post. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


A POT  OF  BROTH. 

Yes,  a Pot  of  Broth,  and  one  more  classic  than  any 
black  broth  ever  supped  by  Spartan;  more  pregnant 
of  Fate  than  the  hell-broth  compounded  by  Macbeth’s 
witches  ; broth  in  which  was  brewed  the  destiny  of  a 
great  nation,  broth  but  for  whose  brewing  I certainly, 
and  you,  if  you  be  of  Pilgrim  strain,  had  never  been, 
for  in  its  seething  liquid  was  dissolved  a wide-spread 
and  most  powerful  conspiracy  that  in  its  fruition  would 
have  left  Plymouth  Rock  a funeral  monument  in  a field 
of  blood. 

Hardly  an  hour  after  the  pinnace  had  landed  its  pas- 
sengers at  the  Rock,  and  the  Pamet,  sullenly  declining 
farther  hospitality,  had  proceeded  on  his  way  to  meet 
Obtakiest  and  report  his  ill  success,  when  Winslow  with 
John  Hampden  and  Hobomok  entered  the  village  from 
the  north,  sore  spent  with  travel  and  scanty  food,  but 
laden  with  matter  of  the  profoundest  interest.  A Coun- 
cil of  the  chiefs,  including  nearly  all  of  the  Mayflower 
men,  was  immediately  called  together  in  the  Common 
house,  now  used  altogether  for  these  assemblages  and 
for  divine  worship,  and  first  Standish  and  then  Winslow 
were  called  upon  for  their  reports. 

The  captain’s  was  given  with  military  brevity. 

“ I have  brought  a hundred  bushels  of  corn  and  all 
men  I carried  away.  The  savages  are  no  doubt 


844 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


disaffected,  and  a notorious  blood-thirsty  rascal  called 
Wituwamat,  a Neponset,  brought  Canacum  a knife  where- 
with to  kill  some  one,  and  I fancy  ’t  is  myself  ; but 
though  he  impudently  delivered  both  knife  and  message 
in  my  presence,  he  so  wrapped  up  his  meaning  in  new 
and  strange  phrases,  that  I could  make  but  little  of  it. 
Perhaps  Master  Winslow  can  read  my  riddle  as  well  as 
tell  his  own  story.” 

44  Methinks  I can,  Captain,’’  replied  Winslow  pleas- 
antly ; and  then  in  smooth  and  polished  phrase  bearing 
such  resemblance  to  Standish’s  rough  and  brief  utter- 
ances as  a rapier  doth  to  a battle-axe,  the  future  Grand 
Commissioner  narrated  how  he  had  found  Massasoit  as 
it  seemed  already  dying,  for  he  could  neither  see,  nor 
swallow  either  medicine  or  food. 

The  sachem’s  wigwam  was  so  crowded  with  visitors 
that  the  white  men  could  scarcely  edge  their  way  in,  and 
around  the  bed  circled  the  powahs  at  their  incantations, 
44  making,”  said  Winslow,  44  such  a hellish  noise  as  dis- 
tempered us  that  were  well,  and  was  therefore  unlike  to 
ease  him  that  was  sick.” 

This  ended,  and  about  half  the  guests  persuaded  to 
withdraw,  the  dying  chief  was  with  difficulty  made  to 
understand  who  were  his  visitors,  and  feebly  groping 
with  his  hand  he  faintly  murmured,  — 

44  Winsnow,  keen  Winsnow  ? ” (Is  it  you  Winsnow  ?) 
To  which  Winslow  gently  replied,  grasping  the  cold 
hand,  — 

44  It  is  Winslow  who  is  come  to  see  you,  sachem.” 

44 1 shall  never  see  thee  again,  Winsnow,”  muttered 
the  dying  man,  and  those  standing  by  explained  that 
the  sight  had  left  his  eyes  some  hours  before. 

But  Winslow,  after  patiently  repeating  over  and  over 


A POT  OF  BROTH. 


345 


the  message  of  sympathy  and  friendship  delivered  him 
by  the  governor,  produced  a little  pot  of  what  he  calls 
a confection  of  many  comfortable  conserves,  and  with 
the  point  of  his  knife  inserted  a portion  between  the 
sick  man’s  teeth. 

“ It  will  kill  him ! He  cannot  swallow,”  declared  the 
favorite  wife,  who  stood  chafing  her  lord’s  hands  ; but 
presently  as  the  conserve,  prepared  by  Doctor  Fuller 
and  of  rare  virtue,  melted,  it  trickled  down  the  patient’s 
throat,  who  presently  whispered,  “ More  ! ” and  Wins- 
low well  pleased  administered  several  doses.  Then, 
finding  the  mouth  whose  muscles  had  now  relaxed,  foul 
with  fever,  this  courtly  and  haughty  gentleman,  this 
necessity  of  the  Lord  Protector  of  England,  this  Grand 
Commissioner  of  the  future,  with  his  own  hands  per- 
formed a nurse’s  loathly  work,  and  ceased  not  until  the 
sachem,  refreshed,  relieved,  rescued  from  death,  was 
able  to  ask  for  drink,  when  Hampden  prepared  some  of 
the  confection  with  water,  and  Winslow  administered  it. 
All  night  this  work  went  on,  and  when  morning  broke, 
the  sick  man  could  see  and  hear  and  swallow  as  well  as 
ever  he  could,  and  his  appetite  returning  he  demanded 
broth  such  as  he  had  tasted  at  Plymouth. 

Now  that  especial  broth  was  a delicious  compound  of 
Priscilla’s  compounding,  and  Winslow  knew  no  more 
of  its  recipe  than  you  or  I do,  nor  were  any  materials 
such  as  should  go  to  the  making  of  white  man’s  broth 
at  hand.  Worst  of  all,  Winslow  had  never  taken  note 
or  share  in  culinary  labors,  for  Susanna  was  a notable 
housewife  and  had  both  men  and  maids  at  her  com- 
mand ; but  a willing  mind  is  a powerful  teacher,  and 
not  only  Winslow  the  man,  was  full  of  Christian  charity, 
but  Winslow  the  statesman  desired  intensely  that  Mas- 


346 


st'andish  of  standish. 


sasoit  should  remain  sachem  of  the  Pokanokets,  instead 
of  making  way  for  Corbitant,  who  had  once  declared 
his  enmity  to  the  white  men,  and  had  only  been  put 
down  by  the  strong  hand. 

So  Winslow  leaving  his  patient  for  a moment  went 
into  the  fresh  air,  both  to  revive  himself  and  to  write 
a hasty  note,  begging  Doctor  Fuller  to  send  not  only 
some  medicine  suited  to  the  case,  but  a pair  of  chickens, 
and  a recipe  for  making  them  into  broth,  with  such 
other  material  as  might  be  needed. 

Fifty  miles  of  forest  lay  between  Sowams  and  Plym- 
outh, but  a swift  runner  was  dispatched  at  once  with 
the  missive,  and  the  promise  of  a rich  reward  if  he  has- 
tened his  return  ; then  Winslow  turned  to  his  fellow- 
statesman  who  stood  looking  on  with  an  amused  smile. 

“ Master  Hampden,  know  you  how  to  make  broth  ? ” 
demanded  he. 

“ I have  no  teaching  but  mother  wit,”  replied  Hamp- 
den. “ And  you  are  richer  in  that  than  I.” 

“ Nay  then  — here  Pibayo,  is  that  thy  name  ? ” 

“ Ahhe,”  replied  the  squaw  modestly. 

“ Thou  hast  corn  in  store  ? ” 

“Ahhe,”  again  replied  the  woman,  and  Winslow 
making  the  most  of  his  little  stock  of  Indian  words 
directed  her  to  bruise  some  of  the  maize  in  her  stone 
mortar,  and  meantime  calling  for  one  of  the  egg-shaped 
earthen  stew-pans  used  by  the  natives,  he  half  filled  it 
with  water,  and  settled  it  into  the  hot  ashes  of  the  open 
air  fire.  The  maize  ready,  he  winnowed  it  in  his  hands, 
blowing  away  the  husks  and  chaff,  and  poured  the  rest 
into  the  boiling  water. 

“ So  far  well,”  remarked  he  gayly  to  Hampden ; “ but 
what  next  ? I remember  in  the  garden  of  our  home  at 


A POT  OF  BROTH. 


347 


Droitwich  there  was  a gay  plot  of  golden  bloom  that  my 
mother  called  broth  marigolds,  but  we  shall  hardly  come 
by  such  in  this  wilderness.” 

“ Me  thinks  there  are  turnips  in  broth,”  ventured 
Hampden. 

“ And  there  are  turnips  in  Plymouth,  but  that  is  not 
here,”  retorted  Winslow.  “ Come,  let  us  see  what  herbs 
Dame  Nature  will  afford.” 

A little  search  and  some  questioning  showed  the 
herbalists  a goodly  bush  of  sassafras,  and  Winslow,  who 
with  the  rest  of  his  generation  ascribed  almost  magical 
virtues  to  this  plant,  enthusiastically  tugged  up  several 
of  its  roots,  and  cleansing  them  in  the  brook,  sliced 
them  thinly  into  his  broth.  Finally  he  added  a handful 
of  strawberry  leaves,  the  only  green  thing  to  be  found, 
and  leaving  the  mess  to  stew  for  a while,  he  strained  it 
through  his  handkerchief,  and  presented  it  to  his  patient 
who  eagerly  drank  a pint  of  it. 

Perhaps  there  really  is  magic  in  sassafras,  perhaps 
the  child  of  nature  throve  upon  this  strictly  Pre-Raphael- 
itish  composition,  perhaps  Indian  gruel  with  strawberry 
leaves  in  it  and  strained  through  a pocket  handkerchief 
is  the  disguise  under  which  the  Elixir  Vitae  masquerades 
among  us  ; certain  it  is  that  beneath  its  benign  influence 
the  sachem  of  the  Pokanokets  revived  so  rapidly  that 
when,  twenty-four  hours  from  his  departure,  the  runnel^ 
arrived  with  the  chickens  and  the  physic,  his  master 
frankly  threw  the  physic  to  the  dogs,  and  handed  over 
the  fowls  to  Pibayo,  bidding  her  guard  them  carefully, 
feed  them  well,  and  order  them  to  lay  eggs  and  provide 
chickens  for  future  illnesses. 

So  this  was  the  fateful  broth  of  which  we  spoke  but 
now,  and  its  results  were  immediate,  for  although  Mas- 
aasoit  himself  said  nothing  more  than,  — 


348 


STANDISH  OF  STAN  DISH. 


“ Now  I perceive  that  the  English  are  my  friends  and 
love  me,  and  while  I live  I will  never  forget  this  kind- 
ness that  they  have  showed  me,”  he  in  a private  conclave 
with  some  of  his  most  trusted  pnieses  solemnly  charged 
Hobomok  with  a message  for  Winslow,  only  to  be  deliv- 
ered however  as  upon  their  return  they  came  within  sight 
of  Plymouth.  This  message,  to  hear  which  the  Council 
had  been  convened,  was  to  the  effect  that  the  Neponsets 
had  fully  determined  to  fall  upon  the  Weymouth  set- 
tlers and  cut  them  off  root  and  branch  so  soon  as  two  of 
them,  who  were  ship-carpenters,  had  completed  some 
boats  they  were  now  building  to  the  order  of  the  Indians. 

The  forty  braves  of  the  Neponset  tribe  were  fully 
equal  to  this  task,  and  if  the  Plymouth  Colony  would 
remain  neutral  they  had  no  desire  to  injure  them  ; but 
knowing  full  well  that  they  would  not,  and  having  more- 
over a superstitious  dread  of  Standish’s  prowess  and 
abilities,  they  had  arranged  with  all  the  tribes  lying 
near  Plymouth  to  join  with  them,  and  on  an  appointed 
day  to  massacre  the  entire  colony. 

“Ay,  ay,”  interrupted  Standish  at  this  point  of  Wins- 
low’s narrative.  “ Now  do  I comprehend  some  of  the 
figures  and  parables  of  Wituwamat’s  impudent  speech, 
what  time  he  delivered  the  knife  to  Canacum.  The 
bloody  hound  — well,  brother,  get  on  with  thy  narrative.” 

So  Winslow  told  how  Massasoit  had  been  urged  again 
and  again  to  join  the  conspiracy,  but  never  would,  al- 
though his  pride  had  been  indeed  sore  wounded  by  a 
lying  story  of  how  the  governor  and  captain  and  Wins- 
low, his  especial  friend,  having  been  told  of  his  desperate 
illness,  cared  naught  for  it,  not  even  enough  to  send 
Hobomok  his  own  pniese  to  inquire  for  him  ; and  now, 
being  undeceived,  he  would  himself  have  killed  the  liar, 


A POT  OF  BROTH. 


349 


whose  name  was  Pecksuot,  but  on  second  thought  left 
him  to  the  white  men  whom  he  earnestly  charged  to  take 
the  matter  into  their  own  hands,  and  with  no  warning, 
no  parley,  to  go  and  kill  Pecksuot,  Wituwamat,  Obta- 
kiest,  and  several  other  ringleaders  of  the  conspiracy, 
for,  as  he  assured  them  most  earnestly  and  solemnly, 
unless  these  men  were  promptly  and  effectually  dealt 
with,  both  the  Weymouth  colony  and  themselves  would 
be  overwhelmed  and  massacred  without  mercy.  Finally, 
the  sachem  added  that  he  as  Sagamore  of  the  Pokano- 
kets,  and  as  it  were  regent  of  the  Massachusetts,  had 
authority  to  order  the  punishment  of  these  rebels  to  his 
expressed  commands  for  peace,  and  he  hereby  did  so. 

“ And  very  sensible  and  good  the  sachem’s  counsel 
seemeth  in  my  ears,”  remarked  Standish  complacently. 

“ Nay,  Captain,”  replied  the  Elder  sternly.  “ Men’s 
lives  are  not  so  lightly  to  be  dealt  withal.  We  came 
among  these  salvages  to  convert  them  to  the  knowledge 
of  God,  not  to  slaughter  them.” 

“ Meseemeth,  Elder,”  returned  Standish  impatiently, 
“ it  is  a question  of  our  lives  or  theirs.  I should  be 
loth  to  see  your  gray  hairs  dabbled  in  blood,  and  Mis- 
tress Brewster  carried  into  captivity  to  drudge  as  the 
slave  of  a squaw.” 

The  elder  turned  even  paler  than  his  wont  and  cov- 
ered his  eyes  with  his  hand,  but  murmured,  — 

“ God  His  will  be  done.” 

“ Ay,  so  say  I,”  replied  the  captain  more  gently. 
“ But  as  I read  Holy  Writ  the  chosen  folk  were  often 
punished  for  sparing  their  foes,  but  never  for  laying 
roundly  on.  4 Go  and  smite  me  Amalek  and  spare  not,1 
is  one  of  many  orders,  and  if  the  commander-in-chief 
obeyed  not  he  was  cashiered  without  so  much  as  a court- 
martial.’  ’ 


350 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


Several  eager  voices  rose  in  reply,  but  Bradford 
lightly  tapping  the  table  around  which  the  Council  was 
gathered  said  decisively,  — 

u These  matters  are  too  large,  brethren,  to  be  thus 
discussed.  Let  each  one  declare  his  mind  soberly  and 
briefly,  and  without  controversy.  To-morrow  is  the  day 
appointed  for  our  town  meeting  and  annual  election  of 
officers,  and  I will  then  lay  the  case  before  the  whole, 
and  also  will  rehearse  our  own  conclusions.  Then,  the 
voice  of  the  majority  shall  decide  the  matter.” 

And  so  began  the  reign  of  “ the  people  ” in  America, 
for  this  was  the  first  great  question  to  be  decided  since 
the  coming  of  the  Fortune  had  so  enlarged  the  colony 
that  the  Council  was  no  longer  composed  of  the  whole, 
as  it  was  when  the  treaty  with  Massasoit  was  concluded 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


THE  SUNSET  GUN. 

The  town  meeting  was  over,  and  its  decisions  if  im* 
portant  were  unanimous,  even  Elder  Brewster,  converted 
perhaps  by  Standish’s  Biblical  references,  giving  his 
voice  for  the  stringent  measures  rendered  necessary  by 
the  growth  and  magnitude  of  the  conspiracy. 

Captain  Standi sh  with  what  force  he  might  select  was 
to  take  the  pinnace,  and  under  cover  of  a trading  expe- 
dition make  a landing  at  Weymouth,  and  first  of  all  dis- 
cover from  the  colonists  themselves  the  truth  of  their 
condition.  If  it  should  prove  as  represented  he  was  to  at 
once  attack  whatever  leaders  of  the  conspiracy  might  be 
found,  and  in  especial  he  was  to  slay  Wituwamat,  of 
whom  Massasoit  had  spoken  as  the  heart  of  the  con- 
spiracy, and  to  bring  his  head  to  Plymouth  to  be  set 
over  the  gate  of  the  Fort  as  a proof  and  a warning  to 
their  neighbors  on  the  east,  whom  they  would  not  now 
punish,  but  hoped  rather  to  persuade. 

“ And  now,  Captain  Standish,  it  were  well  that  you 
should  select  those  whom  you  will  have  of  your  com- 
pany, while  we  are  all  gathered  together  here,”  said  the 
governor  when  the  primary  question  had  been  finally 
decided. 

Standish  rose  and  looked  thoughtfully  from  face  to 
face. 

“ ’T  is  a hard  matter,”  said  he  at  last  with  a gleam  oi 


352 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


pride  in  his  eye.  “ Here  be  fifty  good  men  and  true, 
and  I need  no  more  than  half  a dozen.” 

“ The  Neponsets  number  forty  warriors,”  suggested 
Winslow. 

“ Yes,  but  they  will  not  be  gathered  together,  having 
no  knowledge  of  our  purpose,  and  if  the  shallop  is 
watched  from  shore,  as  belike  it  will  be,  a large  force  of 
armed  men  would  bewray  our  intent,  and  runners  would 
gather  the  braves  in  a few  hours  and  so  bring  down  a 
great  slaughter  upon  the  tribe,”  replied  the  captain  in 
confident  simplicity.  “ But  if  we  go  no  more  in  num- 
ber than  ordinary,  no  more  than  in  our  late  voyage  to 
Nauset  for  corn,  they  will  suspect  nothing,  and  the  mat- 
ter may  be  well  concluded  with  no  more  than  five  or 
six  examples,  Wituwamat  being  the  principal.” 

“ And  glad  am  I,  brother,  to  see  a certain  tenderness 
of  human  life  in  your  counsels,”  said  the  elder  appro v- 
ingly. 

“ Nay,  elder,  I am  not  all  out  a cannibal  and  ogre,” 
replied  the  captain.  “ So  now  I will  choose  me  Hop- 
kins and  Howland  and  Billington,  and  Eaton  and 
Browne  and  Cooke  and  Soule,  seven  hearts  of  oak 
and  arms  of  steel : it  is  enough.” 

“ And  not  one  of  us  Fortune  men,  Captain?  ” de- 
manded Robert  Hicks,  a stalwart  fellow  who  afterward 
became  almost  a rebel  to  the  colony’s  authority. 

“ Nay,  Master  Hicks,”  replied  the  captain  gravely. 
“ I mean  no  discredit  to  the  courage  or  the  good  will  of 
the  new-comers,  of  whom  you  are  a principal ; but  this 
service  is  one  of  strategy  as  well  as  daring,  and  so  soon 
as  the  pinnace  leaves  yon  Rock,  there  must  be  but  one 
mind  and  one  will  in  her,  and  that  is  mine.  The  men 
whom  I have  chosen,  my  comrades  of  the  Mayflower,  I 


THE  SUNSET  GUN. 


353 


know  as  I know  mine  own  sword,  and  I can  trust  them 
as  I do  him.  There ’s  no  offense  Master  Hicks,  but  a 
stricken  field  is  no  place  to  learn  to  handle  a new  sword 
or  a new  comrade.” 

“ And  not  me,  Master,”  said  a low  voice  as  the  cap- 
tain stepped  out  of  the  Common  house  and  turned  his 
face  homeward. 

“Nay,  Jack,  I Ve  a text  for  thee  too.  6 1 have  mar- 
ried a wife  and  cannot  come.’  ” And  with  a somewhat 
bitter  laugh  he  strode  on  up  the  hill,  leaving  John  Alden 
looking  sadly  after  him. 

That  night  as  Standish  slowly  entered  the  Fort  to 
fire  his  sunset  gun,  he  was  startled  at  seeing  a muffled 
figure  seated  upon  an  empty  powder  keg  in  an  angle  of 
the  works.  As  he  appeared  she  rose,  and  pushing  back 
her  hood  showed  the  beautiful  face  of  Priscilla  Molines, 
now  strangely  pale  and  distraught. 

“ You  here,  Mistress  Molines,”  exclaimed  the  captain 
somewhat  sternly.  “ Alden  is  not  coming.” 

“It  is  not  Alden  but  Captain  Standish  I fain  would 
speak  withal,  and  I hope  he  will  pardon  my  forwardness 
in  seeking  him  here.” 

The  captain  briefly  waved  the  apology  aside.  “ Your 
commands,  madam  ? ” inquired  he. 

“ Nay,  nay  sir,  my  father's  dear  loved  friend,  my 
brother’s  tender  nurse,  — mine  — oh  what  shall  I say, 
how  shall  I plead  for  a little  kindness.  Have  pity  on  a 
fro  ward  maid’s  distress  ” — 

“ What  Priscilla,  thou  canst  weep  ! ” 

“And  why  not  when  my  heart  is  sorrowful  unto 
death.” 

“ But  — there  then,  child,  wipe  thine  eyes  and  look 
up  and  let  me  see  thee  smile  as  thou  art  wont.  What 
is  it,  maid  ? What  is  thy  sorrow  ? ” 


354 


STAND1SH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ That  you  will  not  forgive  me,  sir.” 

“ Forgive  thee  for  what  ? ” But  the  captain  dropped 
the  hand  he  had  seized  in  his  sympathy,  and  the  dark 
look  crept  back  to  his  face. 

“ Thou  ’rt  going  to  a terrible  danger  — my  friend  — 
and  it  may  be  to  thy  death.” 

“ Well  girl,  ’tis  not  worth  crying  for  if  I am.  Life 
is  not  so  sweet  to  me  that  I should  over  much  dread  to 
lay  it  down  with  honor.” 

“ Oh,  oh,  and  it  is  my  fault ! ” — sobbed  Priscilla. 

The  captain  strode  up  and  down  the  narrow  space 
pulling  at  his  red  beard  and  frowning  thoughtfully ; then 
stopping  before  the  girl  who  stood  as  he  had  left  her, 
he  quietly  said,  — 

“ Priscilla,  I was  indeed  thy  father’s  friend,  and  I 
am  thine,  and  I fain  would  have  wed  thee,  and  thou 
didst  refuse,  preferring  John  Alden,  who  also  is  my 
friend,  even  as  my  younger  brother,  whose  honor  and 
well  being  are  dear  to  me  as  mine  own.  What  then  is 
the  meaning  of  thy  grief,  and  what  is  thy  request  ? ” 

“ My  grief  is  that  since  the  day  I gave  John  Alden 
my  promise,  you,  sir,  have  been  no  more  my  friend,  but 
ever  looked  upon  me  with  coldness  and  disdain;  and 
now  that  you  go,  it  may  be  to  your  death,  it  breaketh 
my  heart  to  have  it  so,  and  I fain  would  beg  your  for- 
giveness for  aught  I have  done  to  offend  you,  though  I 
know  not  what  it  may  be.” 

“ Know  not  — well,  well,  let  it  pass  — ’t  is  but  one 
more  traverse.  Yes  child,  I forgive  thee  for  what  to  me 
seemed  like  something  of  scorn  and  slight,  something  of 
double  dealing  and  treachery  — nay,  we  ’ll  say  no  more 
on ’t.  Here  is  my  hand,  Priscilla  — and  surely  thy 
father’s  friend  may  for  once  taste  thy  cheek.  Now 
child,  we  ’re  friends  and  dear  friends,  and  if  yon  savage 


THE  SUNSET  GUN. 


355 


sheathes  his  knife  in  my  heart  perhaps  thou  ’It  shed  a 
tear  or  two,  and  say  a prayer  for  the  soul  of  — thy  fa- 
ther’s friend.  And  now  thy  petition,  for  time  presses.” 
“ That  thou  wilt  take  John  Alden  with  thee.” 

“ What  then  ! Who  shall  read  a woman’s  will  aright ! 
I left  him  at  home  for  thy  sake,  Priscilla.” 

“ So  I guessed  and  I thank  you  — nay,  I thank  you 
not  for  so  misjudging  me.”  And  the  fire  in  the  hazel 
©yes  upraised  to  his,  dried  the  tears  sharply. 

44  Why,  what  now  ! Dost  want  thy  troth-plight  lover 
slain  ? ” 

44  No  in  truth,  nor  do  I want  my  troth-plight  friend, 
for  thou  art  that  now,  slain ; but  neither  do  I want  the 
one  nor  the  other  to  lurk  safely  at  home  when  his  broth- 
ers are  at  the  war.  There ’s  no  coward’s  blood  in  my 
heart  more  than  in  yours,  Captain  Standi  sh,  and  I care 
not  to  shelter  any  man  behind  my  petticoats.  I have 
not  wed  John  Alden  all  this  long  year  and  more,  be- 
cause I would  not  wed  with  your  frown  black  upon  my 
heart,  and  I will  not  wed  him  now  until  he  hath  showed 
himself  a man  upon  that  same  field  whence  you  do  not 
greatly  care  to  come  alive.” 

44  Nay,  Priscilla,  I care  more  now  for  life  than  I did 
an  hour  since,  for  I have  a friend.” 

44  And  you  will  take  John,  and  if  he  comes  home 
alive  you  ’ll  smile  upon  our  marriage  ? ” 

44  Yes  girl,  yes  to  both.  God  bless  you,  Priscilla,  for 
a brave  and  true  woman.  And  now  — good-night.” 

A moment  later  as  the  dark  clad  figure  flitted  down 
the  hill  Standish  stood  with  bared  head  and  fixed  eyes 
silent  for  a little  space,  and  then  the  boom  of  the  sunset 
gun  sounded  in  solemn  Amen  to  the  soldier’s  silent 
prayer. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


pecksuot’s  knife. 

The  next  morning  as  the  village  sat  at  breakfast,  two 
men  at  half  an  hour’s  interval  passed  hastily  down  the 
forest  trail,  and  entering  the  town  sought  the  governor’s 
house. 

The  first  was  Wassapinewat,  brother  of  Obtakiest, 
chief  of  the  Neponsets,  who,  having  suffered  both 
wounds  and  terror  in  Corbitant’s  attempted  rebellion, 
now  hastened  to  turn  State’s  evidence,  and  while  warn- 
ing the  white  men  of  his  brother’s  intended  attack  wash 
his  hands  of  any  share  in  it. 

The  other  visitor  was  a long  lank  Caucasian,  Phineas 
Pratt  by  name,  carpenter  by  trade,  Weymouth  settler 
by  position.  This  man  half  dead  with  suffering  of  va- 
rious sorts,  footsore  and  weary,  came  stumbling  down 
the  King’s  Highway  just  as  Bradford  came  out  of  his 
own  door  followed  by  Wassapinewat,  at  sight  of  whom 
Phineas  started  and  trembled,  then  pointing  a finger  at 
him  shrieked,  - — 

“ Have  a care,  Governor ! ’T  is  one  of  the  bloody 
salvages  sworn  to  take  all  our  lives ! ” 

“ Nay,  friend  Pratt,  for  I remember  thee  well,  ’tis  a 
penitent  robber  now,  come  to  warn  us  of  danger.  Me- 
thinks  thine  errand  may  be  the  same.  Come  in,  and 
after  due  refreshment  tell  us  the  truth  of  this  matter.” 


PECKSUOTS  KNIFE . 


357 


But  weary  as  he  was,  the  excited  fugitive  would 
pause  for  neither  rest  nor  refreshment  until  he  had 
poured  out  his  story  of  the  wrongs,  the  insults,  the 
threats  with  which  the  Neponsets  had  harassed  the 
Weymouth  men  in  their  weakness,  in  part  revenging 
the  foul  wrongs  they  while  strong  had  put  upon  the 
savages,  until  in  an  Indian  council  of  the  day  before,  it 
had  been  formally  resolved  to  wait  only  for  two  days’ 
more  work  upon  the  boats  which  Pliineas  and  another 
were  finishing,  and  then  to  inaugurate  the  massacre. 

Both  Pratt  and  Wassapinewat  had  by  different  chan- 
nels  learned  the  result  of  this  council,  and  each  had  re- 
solved to  not  only  save  himself  from  the  explosion  of 
this  mine,  but  to  warn  the  Plymouth  colonists  of  their 
danger,  and  each  had  set  out  by  a slightly  different 
route  from  the  other  and  made  the  journey  in  ignorance 
of  the  other’s  movements. 

It  was  afterward  discovered,  however,  that  Pratt’s 
flight  was  at  once  discovered,  and  an  Indian  dispatched 
to  overtake  and  kill  him,  a catastrophe  averted  by  the 
carpenter’s  straying  from  the  path  in  the  darkness,  so 
that  his  pursuer  reached  Plymouth,  and  went  on  to 
Manomet  before  the  village  was  astir. 

These  two  confirmatory  reports  were  very  welcome 
to  Bradford,  upon  whom  the  nominal  responsibility  of 
the  expedition  rested,  and  to  the  elder  whose  reverend 
face  was  very  pale  and  grave  in  these  days. 

Standish,  however,  as  he  had  felt  no  doubts,  now  felt 
no  added  impulse,  but  went  quietly  on,  seeing  his  com- 
mand and  his  stores  embarked,  and  examining  person- 
ally the  arms  of  his  eight  soldiers. 

At  last  all  was  ready,  the  men  seated  each  at  his 
post,  Hobomok  in  the  bow,  and  Standish  at  the  stern, 


358 


STANDISH  OF  ST  AN  DISH. 


the  men  and  boys  who  stayed  behind  grouped  upon  the 
shore,  while  a vague  cloud  of  skirts  and  kirtles  hovered 
upon  the  brow  of  Cole’s  Hill,  when  Elder  Brewster, 
baring  his  white  head,  stepped  upon  the  Rock,  and  rais- 
ing his  hands  to  heaven  prayed  loud  and  fervently  that 
the  God  of  battles,  the  God  of  victory,  the  God  of  their 
fathers,  would  bless,  protect,  and  prosper  those  who 
went  forth  in  His  name  to  do  battle  for  His  Right ; and 
as  the  old  man’s  voice  rose  clear  and  sonorous  in  its  im- 
passioned appeal,  the  first  breath  of  a favoring  wind 
came  out  of  the  South,  and  the  lapping  waves  of  the  in- 
coming tide  answered  melodiously  to  the  deep  diapason 
of  the  Amen  sent  up  from  fifty  bearded  throats. 

“ And  now  we  may  go  home  and  make  our  mourning 
weeds,”  said  Priscilla  with  a petulant  half  - sob,  half- 
laugh, as  she  and  Mary  Chilton  turned  away  from  the 
wheatfieid  on  the  hill. 

“ Nay,  John  Alden  will  come  home  safe,  I ’m  sure 
on ’t,”  said  Mary  gently,  but  her  vivacious  friend  turned 
sharply  upon  her. 

“And  if  he  comes  not  at  all,  I’d  liefer  know  him 
dead  in  honor,  than  lingering  here  among  the  women 
like  some  others.” 

“ Gilbert  Winslow,  or  his  brother  John  if  you  mean 
him,  would  have  gone  as  gladly  as  any  man  had  the 
captain  chosen  him,”  replied  Mary  composedly,  if 
coldly,  and  Priscilla  turned  and  clipped  her  in  a sharp 
embrace,  crying  out  that  indeed  her  friend  were  no 
more  than  right  to  beat  her  for  a froward  child. 

The  prosperous  wind  lasted  all  the  way,  and  before 
noon  the  shallop  lay  at  anchor  close  beside  the  Swan, 
a small  craft  owned  by  the  Weymouth  men,  and  in- 
tended for  their  use  in  trading  and  fishing.  Standish’s 


PECKSUOTS  KNIFE. 


359 


first  visit  was  to  her,  and  much  to  his  surprise  he  found 
her  both  undefended  and  deserted.  Landing  with  four 
of  his  men  he  next  proceeded  to  the  plantation,  as  it  was 
called,  where  some  ten  or  twelve  substantial  buildings 
surrounded  with  a stockade  established  a very  defen- 
sible position,  but  here  again  neglect  and  suicidal  folly 
stared  him  in  the  face. 

The  settlers  were  dispersed  in  every  direction : three 
had  that  very  morning  gone  to  live  among  the  Indians ; 
many  were  roaming  the  woods  and  shore  in  search  of 
food ; one  poor  fellow  going  to  dig  clams  on  the  previous 
day  had  stuck  fast  in  the  mud  by  reason  of  weakness, 
and  though  the  Indians  stood  upon  the  shore  watching 
him  with  shouts  of  derisive  laughter,  not  one  put  out  a 
hand  to  help  him,  and  he  perished  miserably  at  the  flow 
of  the  tide. 

The  master  of  the  Swan,  stricken  with  the  folly  of 
strong  drink,  met  all  Standish’s  expostulations  with  a 
fatuous  laugh,  and  the  declaration  that  there  was  no 
danger,  — no  danger  whatever ; that  he  and  the  Indians 
were  such  friends  that  he  carried  no  arms,  and  never 
closed  the  gates  of  the  stockade ; that  all  the  stories 
reaching  Plymouth  were  lies  or  blunders ; and  that  al- 
though they  were  short  of  provisions,  and  especially  of 
strong  waters,  they  asked  nothing  more  of  the  Plymouth 
people  than  some  fresh  supplies  to  last  until  Sanders,  the 
head  of  the  colony,  should  return  from  Monhegan  on 
the  coast  of  Maine,  whither  he  had  gone  for  corn. 

Leaving  the  drunken  captain  in  disgust,  Standish  at 
once  took  the  command  of  the  post  upon  himself,  and 
dispatched  Hobomok  and  two  of  the  settlers  who  came 
to  place  themselves  under  his  orders,  to  bring  in  all  of 
the  others  whom  they  could  reach,  sending  word  that  he 


360 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


would  feed  them.  Many  of  them,  including  Sanders’ 
lieutenant  named  Manning,  came  at  the  summons,  and 
before  night  alL  who  would  were  safe  within  the  stock- 
ade, and  were  served  each  man  with  a pint  of  shelled 
corn,  all  that  could  be  spared,  for  it  was  taken  from  the 
Pilgrims’  stock  of  seed-corn. 

Then  in  a brief  and  vigorous  address  Standish  told 
the  colonists  why  he  had  come,  and  repeated  to  them 
the  assurance  given  him  by  Hobomok  that  the  day  but 
one  after  his  arrival  was  the  day  fixed  upon  for  the 
massacre,  the  boats  needing  but  the  one  day’s  work  to 
complete  them.  Furthermore,  he  assured  them  that  he 
needed  nor  would  accept  any  help  from  them  in  his 
punishment  of  the  savages,  the  danger  and  the  respon- 
sibility being  no  more  than  Plymouth  could  endure,  and. 
as  he  significantly  added,  “ The  savages  were  not  like  to 
flee  before  men  who  had  so  often  fled  before  them.” 

Hardly  was  the  harangue  ended  when  a Neponset 
bringing  a few  hastily  collected  furs  entered  the  stock- 
ade, and  warily  approaching  the  captain  offered  them 
for  sale.  Standish  controlling  all  appearance  of  indig- 
nation parleyed  with  him  and  paid  a fair  price  for  the 
furs,  but  as  the  Indian  turned  toward  one  of  the  houses, 
he  called  him  back,  and  dismissed  him  somewhat  per- 
emptorily. 

“ To  spy  out  the  land  hath  he  come,”  remarked  he 
to  Alden.  “ And  I will  not  have  him  glean  our  pur- 
pose.” But  the  savage  had  already  learned  something, 
and  went  back  to  his  comrades  to  report  that  The- 
Sword-of-the-White-Men  “spoke  smoothly,  but  his  eyes 
showed  that  there  was  anger  in  his  heart.” 

The  second  morning  so  soon  as  the  gates  were  opened 
several  Indians  entered  together.  One  of  them  named 


PECKSUOT’S  KNIFE . 


361 


Pecksuot,  a pniese  of  great  celebrity,  greeted  Hobomok 
jeeringly,  and  told  him  that  he  supposed  his  master  had 
come  to  kill  all  the  Neponsets  including  himself,  and 
added, — 

“ Tell  him  to  begin  if  he  dare  ; we  are  not  afraid  of 
him,  nor  shall  we  run  away  and  hide.  Let  him  begin 
unless  he  is  afraid.  Is  he  afraid  ? ” 

Hobomok  repeated  the  message  word  for  word,  but 
Standish  only  replied,  — 

“ Tell  the  pniese  I would  speak  with  his  sachem, 
Obtakiest.” 

“ Obtakiest  is  busy,  or  he  is  feasting,  or  he  is  sleep- 
ing,” replied  Pecksuot  disdainfully.  “ He  does  not 
trouble  himself  to  run  about  after  any  little  fellow  who 
sends  for  him.” 

Again  Hobomok  translated  the  insult,  but  added  in  a 
low  voice,  — 

“ Obtakiest  is  waiting  for  some  of  his  braves  who  are 
gone  to  the  Shawmuts  for  help.  When  they  return  he 
will  attack  the  white  men.” 

“ So ! Then  we  will  not  wait  for  them,  but  so  soon 
as  we  can  gather  the  heads  in  one  place  we  will  return 
some  of  their  courtly  challenges.”  And  Standish  ground 
his  strong  teeth  together  in  the  pain  of  self-restraint 
under  insult. 

Perceiving  that  he  did  not  mean  to  act,  some  of  the 
Indians  who  had  lingered  a little  behind  at  first,  now 
came  forward,  hopping  and  dancing  around  Standish, 
whetting  their  knives  upon  their  palms,  making  insult- 
ing gestures,  and  shouting  all  sorts  of  jeers  and  taunts 
at  him  and  the  white  men  generally. 

Then  Wituwamat  came  forward  and  in  his  own 
tongue  cried  out,  — 


362 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ The  Captain  Sword-of -the- White-Men  escaped  the 
knife  I carried  to  Canacum  for  him,  but  he  will  not 
escape  this.”  And  he  showed  a dagger  hung  around 
his  neck  by  a deer’s  sinew,  on  whose  wooden  handle  a 
woman’s  face  was  not  inartistically  carved. 

“This  is  Wituwamat’s  squaw-knife,”  declared  he. 
“ At  home  he  has  another  with  a man’s  face  upon  it 
which  has  already  killed  both  French  and  English  ; by 
and  by  they  will  marry,  and  there  shall  be  a knife  ready 
for  every  white  man’s  heart ; they  can  see,  they  can  eat, 
and  they  make  no  childish  noise  like  the  white  man’s 
weapons.  But  the  squaw  knife  is  enough  for  the  white 
pniese.” 

“ Hm ! Methinks  I cannot  much  longer  keep  Gideon 
in  his  scabbard  — he  will  fly  out  of  his  own  accord,” 
muttered  Standish,  a deadly  pallor  showing  beneath  the 
bronze  of  his  skin.  Pecksuot  saw  it,  and  mistook  it  for 
the  hue  of  fear.  With  a savage  smile  he  approached 
and  stood  close  beside  the  Captain,  towering  above  his 
head,  for  he  was  a giant  in  stature  and  strength. 

“The  Sword -of -the -White -Men  may  be  a great 
pniese,  but  he  is  a very  little  man,”  said  he  contemp- 
tuously. “ Now  I am  a pniese  as  well  as  he,  and  I am 
besides  a very  big  man,  and  a very  brave  warrior.  The 
Sword  had  better  run  away  before  I devour  him.” 

Without  reply  Standish  turned  and  walked  into  the 
principal  house  of  the  village,  and  looked  around  the 
large  lower  room. 

“ It  will  do  as  well  as  another  place,”  said  he  briefly. 
66  Alden  and  Howland  remove  me  this  great  table  to  the 
side  of  the  room,  and  pitch  out  this  settle  and  the  stools. 
Now  John  Alden  get  you  gone  and  send  me  Hopkins 
and  Billington.  Tarry  you  with  Cooke  and  Browne  at 


PECKSUOTS  KNIFE. 


863 


the  gate ; bid  Soule  and  Eaton  stand  on  guard,  and  if 
they  hear  me  cry  Rescue ! make  in  to  my  help.  Let  no 
more  of  the  salvages  into  the  stockade  until  we  have 
settled  with  these.  Hobomok,  tell  Pecksuot,  Kamuso, 
whom  I saw  behind  the  rest,  Wituwamat,  and  that 
notorious  ruffian  his  brother,  that  I fain  would  speak 
with  them  in  this  place.” 

“ Four  to  four,”  remarked  Billington  with  grewsome 
relish. 

“ Ay.  Take  you  Wituwamat ; Hopkins,  I leave  you 
to  deal  with  Kamuso ; Howland,  take  the  young  fellow, 
and  I will  deal  with  Pecksuot,  for  in  truth  he  is  a bigger 
man  than  I,  but  we  will  see  if  he  is  a better.” 

What  story  Hobomok  may  have  invented  to  bring  the 
four  ringleaders  into  the  house  we  know  not,  but  as  five 
white  men  remained  outside  with  at  least  an  equal  num- 
ber of  Indians,  they  could  not  fear  being  overmatched, 
and  presently  came  stalking  impudently  in,  exchanging 
jeers  and  laughter  of  the  most  irritating  nature. 

Hobomok  followed,  and  closing  the  door  stood  with 
his  back  against  it,  calmly  observing  the  scene,  but  tak- 
ing no  part  in  it. 

Then  at  last  the  captain  loosed  the  reins  of  the  fiery 
spirit  struggling  and  chafing  beneath  the  curb  so  long, 
and  fixing  his  eyes  red  with  the  blaze  of  anger  upon 
Pecksuot,  he  cried,  — 

“ On  guard,  O Pecksuot ! ” and  sprang  upon  him, 
seizing  the  squaw-knife,  which  was  sharpened  at  the 
back  as  well  as  at  the  front,  and  ground  at  the  tip  to  a 
needle  point.  With  a coarse  laugh  Pecksnot  snatched 
at  the  captain’s  throat  with  his  left  hand,  while  his 
right  closed  like  iron  over  the  captain’s  grasp  of  the  hHt 
and  tried  to  turn  it  against  him.  But  the  rebound  from 


364 


STANDISff  OF  STANDISH. 


his  forced  inaction  had  strung  the  soldier’s  muscles  like 
steel  and  thrilled  along  his  nerves  like  fire.  A roar  like 
that  of  a lion  broke  from  his  panting  chest,  and  with 
one  mighty  effort  he  wrung  the  knife  from  the  grasp  o£ 
the  giant,  and  turning  its  point  drove  it  deep  into  the 
heart  of  the  boaster.  A wild  cry  of  death  and  defeat 
rung  through  the  room  as  he  fell  headlong,  and  Witu- 
warn  at  turning  his  head  to  look,  gave  Billington  his 
chance  and  received  his  own  mortal  wound ; while  Ka- 
muso  fighting  with  the  silent  courage  of  a great  warrior 
only  succumbed  at  last  beneath  a dozen  wounds  from 
Hopkins’s  short  sword,  and  Howland  having  disarmed 
and  wounded  his  opponent  presented  him  as  prisoner 
under  Standish’s  orders. 

“ Should’st  have  slain  him  in  the  heat  of  the  onset, 
Howland,”  panted  the  captain,  wiping  his  hands  and 
looking  around  him.  “ Now  — take  him  out,  Billington, 
and  hang  him  to  the  tree  in  the  middle  of  the  parade. 
We  shall  leave  him  there  as  an  example  for  the  others. 
Open  the  door,  Hobomok.” 

Hobomok  did  as  he  was  hid,  but  then  advancing  with 
slow  step  to  the  side  of  the  fallen  Pecksuot  he  placed  a 
foot  upon  his  chest  and  softly  said,  — 

“ Yes,  my  brother,  thou  wast  a very  big  man,  but  I 
have  seen  a little  man  bring  thee  low.” 

It  was  the  giant’s  funeral  elegy. 

“ I have  notched  my  sword  on  yon  villain’s  skull,’9  ex- 
claimed Hopkins  wiping  and  examining  his  blade,  and 
the  Captain  smiling  shrewdly  said,  — 

“ I risked  not  Gideon  in  such  ignoble  warfare,  though 
he  clattered  in  his  scabbord.  Savage  weapons  for  sav« 
age  hearts,  say  I.” 

“ Ha ! There ’s  fighting  without ! ” cried  Hopkins, 


PECKSUOTS  KNIFE . 


365 


rushing  to  the  door,  where  in  effect  Soule  and  Browne 
had  shot  down  two  stout  savages,  who  hearing  Peck- 
suot’s  death  cry  had  tried  to  avenge  him  ; while  another 
rushing  upon  Alden  with  uplifted  knife  was  caught  in 
mid  career  by  a bullet  from  the  captain’s  snaphanco 
snatched  up  at  Hopkins’s  warning. 

So  fell  seven  of  the  savages,  who  would  if  they  could 
have  barbarously  murdered  seventy  white  men,  women, 
and  children,  and  thus  did  the  Captain  of  the  Pilgrim 
forces  teach  the  red  men  a lesson  that  lasted  in  vivid 
force  until  the  men  of  that  generation  had  given  way  to 
those  of  poor  weak  Sachem  Philip’s  day. 

That  night  one  of  the  three  colonists  who  had  gone  to 
live  among  the  Indians  returned  to  the  village  bringing 
news  that  in  the  evening  a runner  had  arrived  at  the 
place  where  he  was,  and  had  delivered  a “ short  and 
sad  ” message  to  his  hosts,  probably  the  news  of  Peck- 
suot’s  and  Wituwamat’s  death.  The  Indians  had  begun 
at  once  to  collect  and  arm,  and  he  foreboding  evil  had 
slunk  away  after  vainly  trying  to  persuade  his  comrades 
to  do  the  same. 

“They  will  be  slain  out  of  revenge,”  declared  Ho- 
bomok  in  his  own  tongue,  and  the  event  proved  him  a 
true  prophet. 

In  the  early  gray  of  morning  the  watch  reported  a 
file  of  Indians  emerging  from  the  forest,  and  Standish 
with  four  of  his  own  men,  and  two  settlers  who  implored 
permission  to  join  him,  went  to  meet  them.  A bushy 
hillock  lay  midway  between  the  two  parties,  and  the 
Indians  were  making  for  its  shelter,  when  the  Pilgrims 
breaking  into  a double  run  forestalled  them,  and  reached 
the  summit  where,  as  Standish  declared,  he  was  ready 
to  welcome  the  whole  Neponset  tribe. 


366 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


The  Indians  at  once  fell  behind  each  man  his  tree, 
and  a flight  of  arrows  aimed  chiefly  at  Standish  and 
Hobomok  ensued. 

“ Let  no  man  shoot  until  he  hath  a fair  mark,”  or- 
dered the  Captain.  “ ’T  is  useless  to  waste  ammunition 
upon  tree-trunks.” 

“ Both  their  pnieses  are  dead,  and  Obtakiest  himself 
is  none  ! ” suddenly  declared  Hobomok.  “ I alone  can 
drive  them ! ” and  throwing  off  his  coat,  leaving  his 
chest  with  its  gleaming  “ totem”  bare,  he  extended  wide 
his  arms  and  rushed  down  the  hill  shouting  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  — 

“ Hobomok  the  pniese  ! Hobomok  the  devil ! Ho- 
bomok is  awake ! Hobomok  has  come  ! ” 

“ The  fool  will  be  shot ! Hath  he  gone  mad ! ” 
shouted  Billington,  but  Hopkins  grasped  his  arm. 

“ Let  be,  let  be ! He  knows  what  he  is  about.  Him- 
self told  me  that  his  name  Hobomok  answereth  to  our 
word  Devil,  and  that  while  every  pniese  through  fasting 
and  self-torture  gains  much  power  over  demons  and  is 
greatly  feared  by  all  who  are  not  pnieses,  he  having 
taken  the  foul  fiend’s  name,  had  gained  double  the 
power  of  the  rest,  and  could  when  put  to  it  summon 
Sathanas  and  all  his  brood  to  aid  him.  Those  others 
know  it,  and  — lo,  you  now,  see  them  scatter,  see  them 
fly ! ” and  with  a loud  laugh  he  pointed  to  the  savage 
crew,  who  panic  stricken  were  fleeing  before  the  pniese 
like  a flock  of  frightened  sheep. 

“ Have  after  them  ! Follow  me,  men  ! ” shouted 
Standish  rushing  down  the  hill,  the  others  following  as 
fast  as  they  could,  but  not  fast  enough,  for  before  they 
came  within  shot,  the  party  was  halted  by  Hobomok’s 
return,  who  half  glorious,  half  laughing,  reported  the 
c\nemy  hidden  in  a swamp,  whither  he  led  his  friends. 


PECKSUOTS  KNIFE. 


367 


“ We  will  slay  no  more  if  we  can  help  it,”  declared 
the  captain.  “ Alden,  show  a flag  of  truce.  Haply 
they  will  understand  it.” 

But  although  as  Standish  drew  near  the  thicket,  Al- 
den carrying  the  white  flag  beside  him,  the  savages  re- 
frained from  firing,  his  invitation  to  parley  was  received 
with  a volley  of  abuse  and  defiance  renewed  at  every 
attempt  of  his  to  speak. 

“Obtakiest  is  there.  I know  his  voice,”  declared 
Hobomok  who  had  crept  up  behind.  “ He  will  not 
show  himself  lest  I curse  him.” 

“ Obtakiest ! Sachem  ! Art  thou  there  ? ” demanded 
Standish.  “ Come  forth  then  like  a man,  and  we  two 
will  fight  it  out  here  in  the  midst.  I challenge  thee, 
sachem  ! ” 

A hoarse  laugh  and  a volley  of  obscene  abuse  was  the 
reply,  and  Standish  indignantly  cried,  — 

“ Dost  not  know  how  base  and  cowardly  it  is  to  hide 
there  and  tongue  it  like  an  angry  woman  ! Thou  ’rt  not 
fit  to  be  called  a man ! ” 

A shower  of  arrows  was  the  only  response  to  this,  and 
presently  the  movement  of  the  bushes  showed  that  the 
Indians  were  retreating  to  a deeper  fastness,  and  Stan- 
dish deeply  disgusted  marched  his  own  men  back  to  the 
village,  the  only  casualty  on  either  side  being  the  broken 
arm  of  the  powah  or  priest,  who  with  Wituwamat  and 
Pecksuot  were  really  the  heart  of  the  conspiracy ; for 
Obtakiest  after  a while  sent  a squaw  to  Plymouth  ab- 
jectly begging  for  peace,  and  declaring  that  he  had 
since  Standish’s  visit  changed  his  camp  every  night  for 
fear  of  receiving  another  one. 

“ And  now,  Master  Manning,  and  you,  master  of  the 
Swan  and  friend  of  the  Neponsets,”  demanded  Standish, 


368 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


as  lie  arrayed  the  Weymouth  men  before  him,  and  do* 
dared  his  success  in  their  quarrel,  “ what  shall  I do 
more  for  your  comfort  or  safety  before  my  return  to 
Plymouth  ? For  myself,  I should  never  fear  to  remain 
in  this  plantation  had  I the  half  of  your  men,  but  fox 
yourselves  ye  must  judge.  Only  I will  add  that  I am 
charged  by  Governor  Bradford  to  say  that  any  who 
will  come  to  settle  in  Plymouth  and  abide  by  its  laws 
and  governance  shall  be  kindly  welcomed.” 

The  settlers  debated  the  matter  among  themselves  for 
a while,  and  although  a few  and  those  of  the  best,  de- 
cided to  accept  the  invitation  to  Plymouth  albeit  some- 
what coldly  given,  the  majority  decided  to  desert  the 
post  where  they  had  suffered  so  much,  and  to  join  some 
other  of  Weston’s  men  at  Monhegan.  The  Pilgrims 
cheerfully  lent  their  help,  and  before  night  the  settlers 
had  loaded  all  their  portable  property  into  the  Swan, 
Standish  had  seen  the  gates  of  the  stockade  securely 
bolted  and  barred,  and  Hobomok  with  some  red  paint 
had  traced  upon  each  a hideous  emblem,  which  he  as- 
sured the  white  men  would  frighten  away  any  preda* 
tory  Indian. 

Standish  only  laughed,  but  Hopkins  nodded  sagely. 

“ The  rogue  is  right  — I know  the  symbol,  and  have 
seen  the  terror  it  carries,”  said  he ; and  true  it  is  that 
whether  from  superstitious  or  from  martial  terrors,  that 
stockade  and  the  houses  it  enclosed,  and  the  body  of  the 
savage  left  swinging  from  the  tree  in  their  midst,  were 
never  molested  or  apparently  visited  by  the  red  men 
again.  As  the  heavy  laden  Swan  weltered  out  of  the 
harbor,  victualed  with  all  that  remained  of  Standish’s 
seed  corn  except  a scanty  ration  apiece  to  his  own  men, 
the  pinnace  bore  gallantly  up  for  Plymouth,  and  in  due 


PECKSUOT’S  KNIFE.  369 

course  joyfully  arrived  there  bringing  home  all  her 
crew  victorious  and  unscathed. 

With  them  came  Wituwamat’s  head  to  be  set  on  a 
pike  over  the  gateway  of  the  Fort,  for  these  our  Fa- 
thers were  not  of  our  day  or  thought  in  such  matters ; 
and  these  Englishmen  did  but  follow  the  usage  of  Eng- 
land, when  so  lately  as  1747  the  heads  of  the  unhappy 
Pretender’s  more  unhappy  followers  defiled  the  air  of 
London’s  busiest  street. 

Standish  for  one  never  doubted  of  the  justice  of  his 
course  either  in  the  slaying  of  the  colony’s  avowed  ene- 
mies, or  the  exposure  of  the  ringleader’s  head ; not  even 
when  a year  or  so  later  Bradford  sorrowfully  placed  in 
his  hands  a letter  just  received  from  his  revered  Pastor 
Robinson  at  Leyden,  who  in  commenting  on  the  death 
of  the  Indians  said,  — 

“ Oh  how  happy  a thing  it  had  been  had  you  con- 
verted some  before  you  had  killed  any.  Let  me  be 
bold  to  exhort  you  seriously  to  consider  of  the  disposi- 
tion of  your  captain,  whom  I love  ; — but  there  is  cause 
to  fear  that  by  occasion,  especially  of  provocation,  there 
may  be  wanting  in  him  that  tenderness  of  the  life  of 
man  made  after  God’s  image,  that  is  meet.” 

Standish  read  the  letter,  and  returning  it  without  a 
word  went  out  from  his  friend’s  presence,  nor  did  he 
ever  after  allude  to  it,  but  a blow  had  been  struck  upon 
that  loyal  loving  heart  from  which  it  never  in  this  life 
recovered. 

Thirty  years  later  as  the  hero  set  his  house  in  order, 
his  failing  hand  wrote  these  words,  — 

“ I give  3£.  to  Mercy  Robinson  whom  I tenderly 
love  for  her  grandfather’s  sake.” 

And  that  was  his  revenge. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


THE  WOLF  AT  THE  DOOR. 

Midsummer  was  upon  the  land,  and  the  heat  and 
drought  were  intense.  Day  after  day  the  sun  rose  fierce 
and  pitiless,  drinking  up  at  a draught  what  scanty  dews 
had  distilled  in  a night  so  brief  and  heated  that  it 
brought  no  refreshment  to  herbage  or  to  man.  Day 
after  day  wistful  eyes  searched  the  horizon  for  a cloud 
if  no  bigger  than  a man’s  hand,  and  still  only  the 
hard  blue  above  and  the  palpitating  horizon  line  stared 
blankly  back.  The  crops  languished  in  the  field,  some 
already  dead,  and  the  scanty  store  saved  from  the  seed 
corn  quite  gone.  Many  a day  a few  clams,  a lobster, 
or  a piece  of  fish  without  bread  or  any  vegetable,  was  ^ 
family’s  whole  subsistence. 

Early  in  July  the  ship  Plantation  had  touched  at 
Plymouth  having  on  board  two  hogsheads  of  dried  peas 
for  sale,  but  seeing  the  bitter  need  of  the  colonists  the 
shipmaster  raised  the  price  to  £8  per  hogshead,  and 
although  they  had  the  money,  the  Fathers  refused  to 
submit  to  the  extortion,  and  the  peas  sailed  southward. 

It  is  but  forty  miles  from  Plymouth  to  Boston  Harbor, 
where  about  a hundred  and  fifty  years  later  the  women 
signed  a declaration  that  they  would  forego  the  use  of 
tea  rather  than  submit  to  extortion,  and  their  fathers 
and  husbands  and  lovers  flung  a goodly  cargo  into  tho 
sea. 


THE  WOLF  AT  THE  DOOR . 


371 


But  a stout  spirit  although  it  keeps  a man  up  puts  no 
flesh  on  his  bones,  and  soon  it  became  a piteous  sight  to 
stand  in  the  Town  Square  and  mark  the  faces  and  fig- 
ures of  those  who  passed  by.  Strong  men  staggered 
from  weakness  as  they  walked,  women  glided  along  like 
mournful  white  wraiths,  even  the  little  children  in  their 
quaint  garb  looked  worn  and  emaciated.  Standish,  who 
relying  upon  his  iron  constitution  and  long  training  in 
a soldier’s  endurance,  had  regularly  divided  his  rations 
with  some  woman  or  child,  had  grown  so  gaunt  and 
worn  that  he  might  well  have  posed  as  The  Skeleton 
in  Armor,  when  he  held  his  monthly  muster,  and  Mis- 
tress Brewster,  although  some  private  provision  was 
made  for  her,  wasted  away  piteously. 

“Where  is  the  ship  spoken  by  the  master  of  the 
Plantation  ? ” was  the  daily  cry,  and  daily  Hobomok 
climbed  the  great  tulip-tree  on  the  crest  of  Watson’s 
Hill  and  swept  the  horizon  line  with  eyes  keener  than 
any  white  man’s. 

“The  Lord  abaseth  us  for  our  sins,”  declared  the 
elder.  “ Call  a solemn  assembly,  proclaim  a fast,  let 
us  entreat  our  God  to  have  mercy,  and  our  Lord  to  par- 
don. Who  can  tell  but  He  yet  may  turn  and  have  com- 
passion, and  spare  the  remnant  of  His  people.  Even 
as  a servant  looketh  to  the  hand  of  his  master  even  so 
let  us  wait  upon  our  God,  beseeching  that  He  spare, 
that  He  pardon,  that  He  restore  us,  who  for  our  sins 
are  appointed  to  die.” 

So  spake  the  elder  after  the  evening  prayers  of  a day 
even  more  exhausting  than  its  predecessors,  and  Myles 
Standish,  leaning  against  the  wall  for  very  weakness, 
muttered,  — 

“Nay,  what  sin  have  these  women  and  children 


372 


STAND1SH  OF  STANDISH. 


wrought  ? What  odds  between  a God  like  that  and  the 
Shietan  of  the  salvages?  Nay,  Elder,  thou  hast  not 
bettered  the  faith  my  mother  lived  and  died  by.” 

But  the  fast  was  appointed  for  the  next  day,  which 
fell  on  a Thursday,  and  as  the  sun  sprang  up  with  even 
an  added  blaze  of  pitiless  heat,  he  saw  a mournful  pro- 
cession winding  up  the  hill  to  the  Fort,  now  so  com- 
pleted as  to  offer  a large  lower  room  for  purposes  of 
devotion  or  of  refuge,  while  the  ordnance  mounted  on 
the  roof  gained  a wider  range,  and  presented  a more 
formidable  aspect. 

At  the  head  walked  Elder  Brewster,  but  the  shadowy 
form  of  Mary  his  wife  reclined  in  the  old  chair  set 
beside  the  window,  whence  she  could  watch  the  proces- 
sion she  was  unable  to  join  except  in  spirit.  Then  came 
the  Governor  and  the  Captain,  Allerton  and  Winslow, 
Warren  and  Fuller,  Hopkins  and  Howland,  Alden  and 
Browne,  and  the  rest  of  the  glorious  hand,  the  least  of 
whom  has  his  name  written  in  the  Libro  d’  Oro  of  the 
men  posterity  delighteth  to  honor.  After  the  men  came 
the  women,  meek  and  gentle,  yet  strong  and  courageous, 
and  the  children,  poor  little  heroes  and  heroines,  invol- 
untary martyrs  like  the  Holy  Innocents  of  Bethlehem. 

“Get  thee  to  the  roof,  Hobomok,”  ordered  the  cap- 
tain, “ and  say  the  prayers  the  elder  hath  so  painfully 
taught  thee ; but  mind  me,  lad,  keep  thine  eyes  upon 
the  horizon  and  watch  for  the  answer,  whether  it  be 
a sail,  or  whether  it  be  a rain  cloud.  Shalt  play  the 
part  of  Elijah’s  servant,  and  the  elder  is  the  very  moral 
of  the  stern  old  prophet.” 

No  morsel  of  food,  no  drop  of  drink,  had  passed  the 
lips  of  that  wan  company  since  the  pittance  of  the  night 
before,  and  yet  for  nine  long  hours  of  that  fearful  day, 


THE  WOLF  AT  THE  DOOR. 


373 


the  air  so  heated  that  it  hardly  fed  the  lungs,  and  the 
sun  blazing  so  pitilessly  upon  the  log  structure  that 
a faint  odor  of  parching  wood  mingled  with  the  torrid 
air  within  the  Fort,  yes,  for  nine  long  hours  the  elder 
prayed,  or  preached,  or  recited  aloud  the  deep  abase- 
ment of  the  penitential  psalms,  and  the  wail  of  the 
prophets,  proclaiming,  yet  deprecating,  the  wrath  of 
an  offended  God. 

In  the  intervals  others  spoke ; Doctor  F uller,  himself 
a deacon  in  the  church,  and  Bradford,  whose  petition 
less  abject  than  that  of  the  elder,  called  confidently  for 
help,  upon  Him  who  twice  fed  a starving  multitude,  who 
promised  that  no  petition  in  His  name  should  go  unan- 
swered, who  hungering  in  the  wilderness  knew  the  ex- 
tremity of  famine,  who  cried  aloud,  I Thirst,  who  has 
promised  to  be  with  His  own  in  all  time  till  Time  shall 
be  no  more. 

Standish,  like  the  statue  of  a sentinel  in  bronze,  stood 
at  the  door  leaning  upon  his  snaphance,  listening  in- 
tently to  all,  and  breathing  a deep-throated  Amen  to  the 
governor’s  prayer. 

Noon  blazed  overhead,  and  Priscilla,  ah,  poor  white, 
attenuate  Priscilla,  crept  down  the  hill  to  the  elder’s 
house,  and  gathering  a handful  of  fire-wood  warmed 
some  broth  made  from  a rabbit  snared  by  Alden  the 
day  before,  and  silently  brought  a cup  to  the  mother, 
who  drank  it  with  the  tears  brimming  over  her  patient, 
faded  eyes. 

“ I am  not  worthy  to  fast  with  the  rest  of  you.  I am 
an  unprofitable  servant,”  whispered  she  handing  back 
the  cup  and  covering  her  face. 

“ Oh,  mother,  mother,  do  not  break  my  heart,”  cried 
the  girl,  whom  the  smell  of  food  had  turned  sick  and 


374 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


faint.  “ It  is  not  so,  dear  saint.  The  Lord  will  not 
have  thee  fast  because  He  knows  thou  art  already  per- 
fected”— 

“ Hush,  hush,  my  child  ; thy  words  are  both  wild  and 
wicked.  Get  thee  back  to  the  House  of  Prayer,  and 
beg  our  God  to  forgive  thy  sin  of  presumption.  Fare 
thee  well  — nay,  one  moment,  — doth,  — doth  the  elder 
look  sadly  spent?  — he  is  not  over  strong  — and  Jona- 
than ? Didst  mark  him  and  the  boys  ? Wrestling  is 
but  puny.” 

“ They  are  all  in  such  strength  as  can  be  looked  for, 
mother  dear,  and  will  hold  out  as  well  as  any.”  And 
Priscilla  wanly  smiled  in  the  poor  pinched  face,  adjusted 
the  cushions  and  the  foot-rest,  and  without  so  much  as 
a drop  of  cold  water  for  herself,  wearily  climbed  the  hill. 
The  captain  making  room  for  her  to  pass  looked  with 
anxious  sympathy  into  her  face,  but  spake  no  word,  and 
again  the  withering  hours  passed  on,  and  the  elder 
prayed  in  a husky  and  broken  whisper,  and  his  hearers 
muttered  an  Amen,  hollow  and  mournful  as  the  echo 
from  an  open  tomb. 

Three  o’clock,  and  Hobomok  scrambled  down  from 
the  roof,  and  stood  in  the  open  doorway.  His  master 
saw  and  went  out  to  him.  In  a moment  he  came  again, 
and  passing  between  the  banks  of  rude  benches  stood 
before  the  elder,  who,  pausing  suddenly,  fixed  upon 
him  a gaze  of  piteous  inquiry,  while  a little  movement 
among  the  hundred  starving  souls  watching  and  pray- 
ing heralded  his  news. 

“ The  answer  has  come,  Elder,”  announced  the  sol- 
dier briefly.  “ A full  rigged  ship  has  just  cleared  Ma- 
nomet  headland,  and  a cloud  black  with  rain  is  rolling 
up  out  of  the  Southwest.” 


THE  WOLF  AT  THE  DOOR 


375 


“ Let  us  pray  ! ” said  the  elder  softly ; and  Standish 
bowed  his  head  with  the  rest  as  the  holy  man,  his  voice 
strong  and  fervent  once  more,  poured  out  for  himself 
and  his  people  such  gratitude  as  perhaps  is  only  possible 
from  those  “ appointed  to  die,”  and  suddenly  rescued 
by  the  hand  of  a merciful  Father. 

A few  moments  later,  as  the  procession  wound  down 
the  hill,  somewhat  less  formally  than  it  had  gone  up9 
the  southern  and  western  sky  were  black  with  clouds 
already  veiling  the  sun,  and  within  an  hour  a soft  and 
tender  rain  began  to  fall,  soaking  quietly  into  the  earth 
gaping  all  over  with  the  wounds  of  drought,  and  reviv- 
ing, as  Bradford  quaintly  phrased  it,  both  their  droop- 
ing affections  and  their  withered  corn. 

“ The  white  man’s  God  is  better  than  the  red  man’s,” 
remarked  Hobomok  privately  to  Wanalancet,  who  was 
visiting  Plymouth.  “ When  our  powahs  pray  for  rain, 
and  cut  themselves,  and  offer  sacrifice,  it  comes  some- 
times, but  in  noisy  floods  that  tear  up  the  earth,  and 
beat  down  the  maize,  and  do  more  harm  than  good. 
Wanalancet  better  turn  praying  Indian  like  Hobomok." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


THE  BRIDES’  SHIP. 

The  rain  proved  as  persistent  as  it  wa&  gentle,  and 
under  its  influence  the  wind  sighed  itself  asleep,  leaving 
at  sunset  the  ship  espied  by  Hobomok  becalmed  outside 
Beach  Point.  Some  of  the  Pilgrims  would  have  rowed 
out  to  her,  but  Bradford  knew  from  his  own  feelings 
how  unfit  they  were  for  such  heavy  labor. 

“ A little  patience  should  not  be  hard  for  men  who 
have  patiently  waited  so  long,”  said  he  smiling.  “ Let  us 
all  break  our  fast  with  thanksgiving.” 

“ One  more  cup  of  broth  and  a bit  of  the  hare,”  said 
Priscilla  gayly,  as  she  set  a little  table  beside  her  pre- 
cious invalid.  “ And  to-morrow  I doubt  not  but  I can 
offer  you  a posset  of  white  flour  and  sugar  and  spice 
and  all  sorts  of  comfortable  things.  Whatever  the  ship 
may  be  ’t  is  sure  to  have  the  making  of  a posset  in  her.” 
“ Oh  Priscilla,  dear  maid,  if  it  might  be,  — if  I dared 
think  of  my  two  girls  ” — 

The  trembling  voice  gave  way,  and  for  a moment 
Priscilla  could  not  speak.  Then  she  cheerily  said,  — - 
“ If  not  themselves  there  is  sure  to  be  news  of  them, 
and  God  is  very  good.  Pr’ythee  take  the  broth.” 

“ There  then,  good  child.  Now  go  to  thine  own  sup- 
per. Mary  is  placing  it  upon  the  board.” 

Dropping  a light  kiss  upon  the  face  lovingly  upturned, 
Priscilla  passed  into  the  outer  room  where  upon  the 
great  table  standing  to-day  in  Pilgrim  Hall  rested  a 


THE  BRIDES 9 SHIP . 


377 


wooden  bowl  filled  with  boiled  clams,  and  beside  it  a dish 
of  coarse  salt  and  a pewter  flagon  of  water.  Only  this, 
no  bread,  no  vegetable,  no  after  course  ; but  at  the  head 
of  the  table  stood  the  elder,  his  worn  face  radiant  with 
gratitude,  as,  uplifting  his  voice,  he  gave  thanks  to  God 
for  that  he  and  his  might  66  suck  of  the  abundance  of 
the  seas  and  of  the  treasures  hid  in  the  sand.” 

After  midnight  a breeze  sprung  up,  but  the  master  of 
the  Anne  cautiously  waited  for  the  full  tide  to  float  him 
over  the  many  flats  then  as  now  obstructing  Plymouth 
Harbor,  and  it  was  not  until  another  sunrise  that  the 
travel-worn  and  over-crowded  bark  folded  her  patched 
sails  and  dropped  her  anchor  not  far  from  the  old  an- 
chorage ground  of  the  Mayflower. 

The  governor  no  longer  tried  to  restrain  the  enthu- 
siasm of  his  townsmen ; in  fact,  he  himself  helped  to  drag 
up  the  anchor  of  the  pinnace  and  make  her  ready  for  a 
visit  to  the  stranger.  With  him  went  Jonathan  Brew- 
ster to  see  if  perchance  his  sisters  might  be  on  board ; 
and  Doctor  Fuller,  and  Robert  Hicks,  and  Francis  Cooke, 
and  William  Palmer,  and  Master  Warren,  albeit  not  fit 
even  for  so  small  an  exertion,  for  every  one  of  these 
men  thought  it  possible  that  his  wife  might  be  aboard, 
nor  was  one  of  them  disappointed,  for  the  Anne,  might 
well  have  dropped  her  anchor  to  the  tune  of  “ Sweet- 
hearts and  Wives,”  so  laden  was  she  with  those  precious 
commodities. 

“ Come  Captain ! ” called  Bradford  as  the  dory  lay 
ready  to  transport  the  last  three  to  the  pinnace  already 
under  sail. 

“ No,”  somewhat  morosely  returned  Standish.  “ I 
shall  only  be  in  the  way  of  other  men’s  rejoicings. 
There ’s  naught  for  me  aboard  that  or  any  other  ship 
that  floats.  No,  I say,  — push  off,  Cooke ! ” 


378 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH 


And  the  captain  strode  up  the  hill,  and  climbed  the 
roof  of  the  Fort  to  cover  and  pet  his  big  guns  and  see 
that  the  dampness  did  them  no  mischief. 

Below,  Alden  helped  Priscilla  to  make  ready  all  the 
food  remaining  in  the  village,  for  surely  the  new-comer 
had  brought  supplies,  and  the  famine  was  at  an  end. 

“ If  this  ship  might  bring  him  a wife  as  perchance  it 
hath  to  our  good  surgeon,”  said  John  after  describing  his 
master’s  mood. 

“ Ay,  but  I fear  me  he  ’ll  be  hard  to  suit,”  replied 
Priscilla. 

“ Natheless,  remember  sweetheart,  you  promised  me 
that  so  soon  as  the  famine  was  over  and  our  new  house 
finished  ” — 

“ And  the  captain  cheerful  as  his  wont.” 

“ Ay,  well  so  soon  as  all  these  matters  were  settled 
fairly,  you  promised  ” — 

“ Oh  sooth,  good  lad,  stand  not  gaping  there  and 
minding  me  of  last  winter’s  snow  and  last  summer’s 
roses  ! Go  and  call  the  captain  and  the  elder  to  their 
breakfast  while  I see  to  the  dear  mother.” 

But  breakfast  was  hardly  over  when  Mistress  Wins- 
low ran  across  the  street  to  the  elder’s  wife. 

“ Lo  you  now,  dear  mother,”  cried  she  excitedly. 
“ There  are  three  boats  rowing  toward  the  Rock,  and  in 
every  one  of  them  you  may  make  out  women’s  gear,  and 
who  knows  but  Patience  and  Fear  are  of  the  company. 
All  the  men  have  gone  down  to  the  Rock,  and  I am 
going.” 

Out  she  ran  again,  and  Priscilla  quickly  moved  to  the 
mother’s  side,  but  great  joys  do  not  kill  even  though 
they  startle,  and  presently  the  white  white  face  was 
raised  with  a smile  almost  of  heaven  illuminating  it, 
and  the  dame  softly  said,  — 


THE  BRIDES ’ SHIP . 


379 


<c  Yes,  they  have  come.  I knew  it  in  the  night.  They 
have  come,  but  Priscilla  thou  ’rt  none  the  less  my  dear 
and  duteous  daughter.  Now  get  you  to  the  Rock  with 
the  rest.  I shall  be  well  alone.,, 

“ Now  is  Will  Bradford  well  content ; now  is  comedy 
ready  to  tread  upon  the  heels  of  tragedy,  and  funeral 
dirges  to  end  in  marriage  chimes,”  muttered  the  captain 
$,s  he  plunged  down  the  steep  of  Leyden  Street,  and 
stood  with  overcast  face  and  compressed  lips  watching 
the  boats  sweeping  merrily  up  to  the  landing. 

In  the  foremost  sat  the  governor,  and  close  beside 
him  two  female  figures  their  backs  to  the  shore.  On 
the  next  thwart  Surgeon  Fuller,  his  whimsical  face  for 
once  honestly  glad,  leaned  an  elbow  on  his  knee  and 
peered  up  into  the  comely  face  of  Bridget,  his  young 
wife,  for  Agnes  Carpenter  lay  asleep  beneath  St.  Peter’s 
Church  in  old  Leyden  town.  But  her  sister  Juliana 
had  come  with  her  husband,  George  Morton,  and  their 
five  children,  Patience  already  a winsome  lass  of  fifteen, 
soon  to  marry  John  Faunce  and  become  mother  of  the 
last  ruling  Elder  of  Plymouth  Church. 

Later  on,  two  more  of  these  fair  Carpenter  girls  were 
to  come  over  to  the  home  of  their  sister  Alice : Priscilla, 
who  married  William  Wright,  one  of  the  joyous  passen- 
gers of  the  Fortune ; and  Mary,  of  whom  the  Chronicles 
say  that  she  died  “ a godly  old  maid  ” in  her  sister’s 
home. 

Pardon  the  interlude,  but  there  is  something  very  fas- 
cinating in  the  story  of  this  family  of  five  beautiful 
girls  so  eagerly  sought  in  marriage  by  the  best  men  of 
the  colony,  and  of  her  who  was  the  flower  of  all  and 
yet  died  “ a godly  old  maid.” 

The  governor’s  boat  was  at  the  Rock,  and  willing 


380 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


hands  on  shore  caught  at  the  rope  thrown  from  the 
bows,  and  dragged  her  up  so  that  the  passengers  could 
step  out  dry  shod.  Standish  drew  back  a little,  and 
with  folded  arms  stood  watching  the  debarkation.  Last 
of  all  came  Bradford  and  the  two  ladies  he  had  es- 
corted. 

“ So  that  is  Mistress  Alice  Carpenter  Southworth,  is 
it  ” muttered  the  soldier  grasping  a handful  of  his  ruddy 
beard.  “ Well,  it  is  a winsome  dame  and  a gentle ; I 
wonder  not  that  Will  hath  ” — 

But  the  calm  comment  ended  abruptly  in  an  excla- 
mation of  incredulity  and  pleasure,  for  when  Mistress 
Southworth  stood  safely  upon  the  strand,  Bradford 
turned  and  gave  his  hand  to  her  companion,  a girl  of 
some  four  or  five  and  twenty  years  old,  with  one  of  those 
rounded  and  supple  figures  which  combine  strength  and 
delicacy,  endurance  and  elasticity,  and  are  very  slow  in 
yielding  to  the  attacks  of  Time.  A demure  hood  tied 
under  the  chin  framed  a round  face,  whose  firm  fair 
skin  had  defied  the  tarnish  of  the  sea,  and  only  gained 
a somewhat  warmer  glow  in  cheek  and  lip  than  its  na- 
tive tone.  Little  tendrils  of  sunny  brown  hair  pushed 
their  laughing  way  from  beneath  the  edge  of  the  hood 
and  curled  joyously  to  the  fingers  of  the  toying  wind. 
Straight  dark  brows  and  long  eyelashes  of  the  same 
deep  tint  gave  character  to  the  face,  and  shaded  a pair 
of  eyes  whose  beauty  has  stamped  itself  upon  every  gen- 
eration of  this  woman’s  descendants.  Large,  and  pecul- 
iarly opened,  these  eyes  were  of  a clear  violet  blue,  but 
with  pupils  whose  frequent  dilatation  gave  such  range 
of  tint  and  expression,  and  such  extraordinary  brilliancy 
that  many  were  found  to  insist  that  the  eyes  themselves 
were  black,  while  others  vowed  that  no  such  intensity 


THE  BRIDES'  SHIP. 


381 


of  blue  had  ever  been  seen  in  human  orbs  before.  But 
neither  in  the  shape,  nor  the  color,  nor  the  brilliancy, 
nor  the  pathetic  curve  of  the  upper  lid,  did  the  wonder- 
ful beauty  of  these  eyes  abide ; it  was  a fascination,  a 
compelling  power  in  their  regard ; the  power  of  appeal 
or  of  assurance,  of  love  or  wrath,  of  promise  or  of  trust, 
that  dwelt  in  their  depths,  and  leaped  or  stole  thence 
bending  to  their  service  the  will  of  all  who  gazed  stead- 
fastly upon  them.  Weapons  more  dangerous  in  a wo- 
man's hands  than  was  Gideon  the  Sword,  in  the  hands 
of  the  Captain  of  Plymouth. 

As  their  owner  lightly  leaping  from  the  gunwale  of 
the  boat  alighted  upon  the  Rock,  these  eyes  sought  and 
rested  merrily  upon  Myles'  wonder-stricken  face,  while 
a joyous  smile  illuminated  the  features  and  showed 
bright  and  pretty  teeth. 

66  Barbara ! " exclaimed  the  captain,  leaping  down 
from  the  hillock  where  he  had  so  unsympathetically 
posted  himself  to  observe  the  landing. 

“ Yes,  Barbara,”  returned  a blithe  voice.  “ Come  all 
this  way  to  look  after  her  cousin,  who  cared  not  to  come 
so  far  as  the  ship  to  greet  her.” 

“ But  how  was  I to  know  thou  wert  coming,  lass  ? 
Ever  and  always  at  thine  old  trick  of  laying  me  in  some 
blunder!  Well,  thou'rt  welcome,  Bab,  welcome  as  flow- 
ers in  May.”  And  seizing  the  round  face  between  his 
two  hands  Myles  pressed  a hearty  salute  upon  either 
cheek. 

“And  Captain,”  broke  in  Bradford's  well  pleased 
voice,  “ let  me  bring  you  to  the  notice  of  Mistress 
Southworth,  in  whose  matronly  company  your  cousin  has 
journeyed.” 

A fair  and  gentle  English  face,  albeit  not  without  a 


382 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


quiet  determination  in  its  lines,  was  turned  upon  the  sob 
dier  as  Alice  South  worth  held  out  her  hand  saying,  — 

“ And  greatly  beholden  am  I to  Mistress  Standish  for 
her  companionship.  I know  not  quite  how  we  could 
have  borne  some  of  our  discomfiture  had  not  she  cheered 
and  upheld  us  as  she  did.” 

“ Ay,  ’t  is  a way  the  wench  hath  of  old,”  replied  the 
captain  gayly.  “ I mind  me  of  a home  across  the  seas 
where  one  declared  that  naught  but  Barbara’s  care  kept 
her  in  life  at  all.  But  in  good  sooth,  girl,  why  didst  not 
warn  me  of  thy  coming  ? ” 

“I  would  fain  take  thee  by  surprise,  cousin,  and 
methinks  I have.” 

“ A total,  an  utter  surprise.” 

“ We  had  fared  but  ill  here  in  the  colony  had  yon 
sachem  surprised  thee  as  effectually,  Myles,”  laughed 
the  governor  as  the  little  party  climbed  The  Street, 
a long  procession  of  jocund  men,  women,  and  children 
streaming  after  them,  the  joy  of  reunion  and  the  flood 
of  loving  greetings  sweeping  away  the  conventional  bar- 
riers wherein  the  Separatists  attempted  to  imprison 
Nature. 

“ Ah  ! There  are  the  elder’s  girls ! ” said  Bradford, 
as  they  halted  before  his  gate  and  looked  back  upon  the 
busy  street. 

“ Yes,  Fear  and  Patience,  sweet  maids  both  of  them,” 
replied  Alice. 

“ And  those  five  merry  Warren  girls  have  found  their 
father,”  said  Barbara.  “ But  he  looks  not  over  strong.” 

“ No,”  replied  the  governor  sadly.  “ He  hath  not 
grudged  both  to  spend  and  to  be  spent  for  the  common 
weal,  and  glad  am  I that  his  wife  hath  come  to  restrain 
his  zeal.  But  come  in,  come  in,  dear  friends,  and  Mis- 


THE  BRIDES'  SHIP. 


383 


tress  Eaton,  who  cares  for  me  and  my  house  until  I can 
purvey  me  another  housekeeper,  will  make  you  wel- 
come.” 

“ I would  not  say  nay  to  some  breakfast,  nor  I think 
would  you,  maid  Barbara,  eh  ? ” laughed  Alice,  and  the 
governor’s  face  clouded. 

“ I fear  me  there  is  but  sorry  cheer  to  set  before  you, 
dear  friends,”  said  he.  “ Mistress  Eaton  warned  me 
last  night  that  a few  clams  were  all  she  had,  or  could 
compass,  in  her  larder.” 

“ Something  was  told  aboard  of  a famine  in  the  place,” 
said  Barbara  quietly,  “and  I fancied  it  could  do  no 
harm  to  put  some  provant  left  over  of  my  stores  into 
a bag  and  carry  it  ashore.  If  none  wanted  it  I could 
leave  it  hid,  and  — but  here  it  is  — the  bag,  Myles  ? ” 

“What,  this  sack  I have  tugged  up  the  hill?  All 
this,  provision  ? ” 

“ Ay,  for  the  cook  gave  me  a good  bit  of  boiled  beef, 
and  a hen  to  boot.” 

“ Beef ! ” exclaimed  the  captain  involuntarily,  but  in 
a tone  of  such  amazed  delight  that  Barbara’s  eyes  dwelt 
upon  him  in  pity  and  wonder. 

“ Myles ! Thou  dost  not  mean  that  thou  hast  been 
actually  a-hungered ! ” said  she.  “ Oh  Alice,  they  are 
starving.” 

“ Starving ! ” echoed  Alice  in  the  same  tone  of  dis- 
may. “ Oh  Will ! ” 

“ Nay,  nay,  nay  ! ” protested  the  governor  with  a 
somewhat  hollow  laugh.  “We  have  not  feasted  of  late, 
perhaps,  and  the  word  beef  hath  a strange  sound  in  our 
ears,  since  no  meat  save  a little  wild  game  hath  been 
seen  among  us  for  a year  or  more,  but  still,  thank  God, 
we  are  well  and  hearty  ” — 


384 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH, 


“Well  and  hearty!”  repeated  Alice  South  worth. 
“ Look  at  him,  Barbara ; look  at  his  cheeks,  his  temples, 
look  at  that  hand,  all  as  one  with  the  skeleton  in  the 
museum  of  Leyden.  Oh  Barbara,  to  think  that  we 
should  find  them  starving  after  all ! ” 

“Better  starving  than  starved,”  replied  Barbara 
calmly.  “ And  if  the  governor  will  give  me  warrant, 
and  this  same  Mistress  Eaton  will  lend  me  her  aid,  I 
will  soon  set  forth  a table  that  shall  make  hungry  men’s 
hearts  leap  within  them.” 

“ There,  Will,”  exclaimed  Alice  generously.  “ That 
is  the  sort  of  maid  she  is,  never  stopping  to  lament  and 
wring  her  hands  as  silly  I do,  but  ever  looking  for  the 
way  to  mend  the  evil,  and  finding  it,  too.” 

Dame  Eaton,  whom  we  have  known  as  Lois,  maid  to 
Mistress  Carver,  but  now  married  to  Francis  Eaton  and 
promoted  on  her  marriage  to  be  the  governor’s  house- 
keeper, soon  made  her  appearance,  and  the  three  women 
were  not  long  in  setting  forth  a breakfast  whereunto 
the  governor  invited  as  many  of  his  neighbors  as  the 
table  could  accommodate,  and  over  which  he  offered 
a thanksgiving,  glowing  with  loving  gratitude  to  Him 
who  giveth  all. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


MARRIAGE  BELLS. 

“And  now,  Governor,  we  have  to  billet  all  these 
new-comers  as  best  we  may.  Six-and-ninety  names  the 
captain  of  the  Anne  reports  on  his  roster,  and  that  fairly 
doubles  the  population  of  Plymouth.  Where  shall  we 
bestow  them  all  ? ” 

“ Why,  Captain,  you  know  that  many  of  our  men  ex- 
pecting their  wives  and  children  have  built  housen  and 
now  will  occupy  them ; and  for  the  rest,  I am  minded,  if 
you  will  have  me,  to  impose  myself  upon  you  and  Alden, 
and  leave  mine  own  house  to  Mistress  Southworth  and 
your  cousin.  Then,  as  the  elder’s  daughters  now  have 
come,  Priscilla  Molines,  whom  my  dame  knoweth  and 
loveth  well,  and  Mary  Chilton  and  Elizabeth  Tilley  can 
all  find  room  here  also,  and  the  rest  we  will  dispose  of 
among  the  other  families.  Mayhap  for  a while  the 
young  men  may  sleep  at  the  Fort.” 

“ Nay,  Governor,  we  ’ll  have  no  rantipoles  at  the  Fort 
meddling  and  making  among  the  ammunition,  and  play- 
ing tricks  with  the  guns.  Alden  and  you  and  I and 
Howland,  and  some  other  of  the  ancients,  will  swing  our 
hammocks  at  the  Fort  if  you  will,  and  my  house  may  be 
turned  into  a billet  for  the  bachelors,  until  we  can  help 
them  to  knock  up  housen  for  themselves.” 

“ So  be  it,  comrade,  and  yet ’t  is  hardly  worth  while 
to  make  great  changes  or  fatigues  until  ” — 

“Until?”  — 


886 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


u Until  some  among  us  are  wed,  Myles.” 

“ Why,  truly  yes.  I had  forgot,  and  yet  I have  heard 
the  jingle  of  marriage  bells  in  thy  voice  since  ever  yon 
ship  rounded  Manomet.  How  soon  will  it  be,  Will  ? ” 

“ So  soon  as  my  dame  agreeth,”  replied  Bradford 
contentedly.  “ At  all  odds  before  the  Anne  returneth. 
We  have  magistrates  enow  among  us,  however,  for 
Master  Oldham  and  Master  Hatherly  both  carry  the 
king’s  patent  as  justices ; and  this  Master  Lyford  who 
cometh  in  Oldham’s  train  is  preacher  in  the  Church  of 
England.” 

“ Ha ! Say  you  so,  Will  ? One  of  the  6 hireling 
priests  ’ of  such  noisome  odour  in  the  nostrils  of  thy 
friends  of  the  stricter  sort  at  Leyden  ! ” 

“ Nay,  Captain,  but  you  will  remember  that  Pastor 
Robinson  did  receive  members  of  England’s  Church  to 
the  Lord’s  Table,  and  did  counsel  us  to  live  in  brotherly 
love  and  communion  with  them.” 

“ And  so  fell  into  disfavor  with  his  old  friends  the 
Brownists,”  remarked  Standish  carelessly.  “ Well,  ’tis 
all  one  to  me,  who  am  no  church  member,  and  deny  not 
due  respect  to  the  old  faith  of  mine  house.  And  you 
will  be  wed  anon,  Will  ? ” 

“ Ay,  and  we  will  have  your  Barbara  to  stay  with  us 
until  she  finds  another  home,  if  you  and  she  consent. 
Dame  Alice  loves  her  passing  well.” 

“ ’T  is  a good  wench  and  a comfortable  one,”  replied 
Standish  well  pleased.  “ Had  Rose  lived,  or  had  Pris- 
cilla said  me  yea,  I had  taken  Barbara  under  mine  own 
roof ; but  now  I must  wait  until  she  makes  her  choice  of 
the  swains  that  soon  will  come  a-wooing,  and  then  she 
and  her  husband  shall  come  to  me.” 

“ Ay,”  returned  Bradford  musingly,  and  checking 


MARRIAGE  BELLS . 387 

upon  his  lips  the  smile  that  danced  in  his  eyes.  “ Thy 
plans  are  ever  wisely  laid,  Myles.” 

Turning  into  his  own  house  Bradford  found  Alice 
with  her  wimple  and  scarf  on  just  about  to  leave  it. 

“ Whither  away,  mistress  ? ” asked  he  gayly. 

“Only  to  breathe  a mouthful  of  fresh  air,  Master 
Governor.  I have  been  so  long  ashipboard  that  four 
walls  seem  a prison  to  me.  Mayhap  I ’ll  take  passage 
back  again  with  good  Master  Pierce.” 

“ Mayhap  thou  ’It  do  naught  of  the  sort.  I have  thee 
now,  and  I ’ll  not  let  thee  go,  as  I did  sometime  in 
Leyden.” 

“ Thou  didst  anger  me  sore,  Will,  when  thou  ’dst  not 
close  with  that  good  man’s  offer  of  half  his  business, 
though  it  was  but  a merchant’s.  And  my  father  crying 
up  Edward  Southworth  ” — 

“ Nay,  Alice,  we  ’ll  not  go  pulling  open  old  wounds 
to  see  if  they  be  healed.  I would  not,  I could  not  do 
violence  to  my  English  name  and  blood  and  become  a 
Dutch  trader  though  it  were  to  gain  thy  hand,  nor  did  I 
think  thou  would st  in  thine  anger  go  so  far  — but  there, 
sweetheart,  we  ’ll  say  no  more  on ’t,  now  or  ever.  God 
has  been  exceeding  gracious  in  bringing  us  once  more 
together,  and  we  will  not  be  ungrateful.  Thy  boys 
shall  find  a father  in  me,  Alice,  and  should  Elder  May 
give  me  again  my  little  John  ” — 

“ Nay,  the  boy  is  well  with  his  grandsire  in  Leyden, 
and  my  Constant  and  Thomas  must  abide  with  their 
father’s  folk  for  a while.  They  would  not  part  from 
me  unless  I left  the  boys  for  a year  or  two.” 

“ And  still  thou  wouldst  come,  Alice.” 

“ Dost  mind  what  words  Ruth  said  to  Naomi,  Will?* 
44  Truly  do  I,  Alice.” 


388 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISR. 


And  as  the  two  long-parted  lovers  looked  deep  into 
each  other’s  eyes  there  needed  no  further  speech  to  show 
that  the  long  winter  was  over  and  the  time  of  the  sing- 
ing of  birds  had  come. 

Two  weeks  from  the  arrival  of  the  Anne  all  Plym- 
outh put  on  festal  gear  and  merry  faces.  Good  cheer 
abounded  in  place  of  famine,  for  the  new-comers  were 
well  stored  with  provision,  and  although  this  was  not 
turned  into  the  common  stock,  those  who  had  promising 
crops  — and  since  the  Fast  Day  there  had  been  no  stint 
of  rain,  and  the  corn  promised  marvelously  well  — could 
always  obtain  dry  provisions  for  the  promise  of  a share 
in  the  green  meat  when  it  should  be  gathered. 

And  fitting  it  was  that  Plymouth  should  keep  holiday, 
for  not  only  was  it  the  governor’s  marriage  morn,  but 
Priscilla  Molines,  whom  all  her  townsfolk  loved,  was  to 
become  John  Alden’s  wife ; and  as  the  two  friends  could 
not  be  parted,  Mary  Chilton  had  promised  upon  the  day 
of  Priscilla’s  marriage  to  give  her  hand  to  John  Wins- 
low, one  of  the  Fortune’s  pilgrims  and  brother  of  Edward 
and  Gilbert.  Finally  John  Howland  so  strongly  pleaded 
his  cause  before  the  elder  and  his  wife  that  they  con- 
sented to  give  him  Elizabeth  Tilley  to  wife,  young  though 
she  was,  and  to  allow  him  to  take  her  to  the  pretty  cot- 
tage he  had  built  upon  The  Street,  next  to  Stephen  Hop- 
kins’s substantial  house  on  the  corner  of  The  Street  and 
the  King’s  Highway.  John  Alden  also  had  built  a cot- 
tage between  the  captain’s  house  and  the  governor’s ; 
and  Eaton  with  his  wife  Lois  was  to  share  a house  with 
Peter  Browne,  who  had  manfully  assumed  the  charge  of 
Widow  Martha  Ford  and  her  three  children. 

Christian  Penn,  a stalwart  lass,  passenger  of  the 
Anne,  was  to  make  one  of  the  governor’s  family,  and 


MARRIAGE  BELLS . 


389 


literally  to  be  44  help  ” to  his  wife  in  the  duties  of  the 
household,  while  Mary  Becket  consented  to  fill  the  same 
place  in  Edward  Winslow’s  home. 

Barbara,  cordially  invited  both  by  Alice  Southworth 
and  by  Priscilla  to  become  their  perpetual  guest,  laugh- 
ingly accepted  both  invitations,  saying  to  Priscilla,  — 

44  When  I find  too  much  pepper  in  thy  soup,  Pris, 
I ’ll  e’en  go  cool  my  tongue  with  Dame  Alice’s  com- 
fitures ; and  when  I fancy  one  new-wed  pair  were  as 
content  without  me,  I ’ll  e’en  go  and  inflict  myself  upon 
t’  other.” 

44  And  the  captain  will  keep  house  with  only  Hobo* 
mok,”  said  Priscilla  dubiously. 

44  Nay,  Kit  Conant  is  to  ’bide  with  them,  and  do  cer- 
tain service,  and  I shall  still  be  in  and  out,”  said  Barbara 
briskly.  44  Like  enough  the  most  they  eat  will  be  of 
my  brewing.  We  shall  do  well  enow  for  the  captain. 
But,  Priscilla,  what  ailed  thee  not  to  wed  him,  since  his 
comfort  sits  so  nigh  thy  heart  ? ” 

64  Why,  ’t  is  but  Christian  to  pity  them  who  are  in 
need,  yet  none  can  wed  with  more  than  one  man  at  a 
time,  and  from  the  first  I knew  that  John  Alden  was 
the  one  for  me.  Wed  him  thyself,  Barbara,  and  send 
Kit  Conant  about  his  business.” 

A sudden  color  surged  all  over  Barbara’s  face,  and  the 
wonderful  eyes  shot  out  an  angry  spark,  but  after  a mo- 
ment she  quietly  said,  — 

46  Myles  and  I have  ever  been  more  like  brother  and 
sister  than  cousins.  His  mother  was  all  as  one  with 
mine  own.” 

44  Ay,  and  so  it  is.  Yes,  yes,  I see,”  said  Priscilla 
hurriedly,  but  when  Barbara  had  left  her  she  stood  for 
many  minutes  drumming  on  the  table,  and  thoughtfully 


390 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


gazing  through  the  open  door  at  the  blue  wonder  of  the 
sea. 

And  now  the  wedding  day  had  come,  a glorious  golden 
summer  day,  and  some  of  the  older  folk,  whose  habits 
of  early  life  held  rigidly  to  the  soil  since  planted  anew  to 
a Separatist  crop,  remembered  that  it  was  Lammas  Day. 
One  of  these  was  Elizabeth,  Master  W arren’s  new-come 
wife,  and  as  she  looked  abroad  in  the  early  morning, 
she  sighed  a bit  and  said,  — 

“ A year  agone,  Richard,  I looked  upon  another  guess 
sort  of  scene  than  this.  The  church  bells  were  ringing 
and  the  people  trooping  in,  and  many  was  the  goodwife 
who  brought  her  loaf  baked  of  the  first -fruit  wheat  to 
offer  it  for  the  parson’s  table  if  not  for  the  Commu- 
nion ” — 

“Nay  wife,  nay,  remember  Lot’s  wife,”  chided  the 
husband,  already  so  far  upon  his  way  to  that  abode  of 
Light  where  shall  be  no  Separatism  and  no  uncharity. 

As  all  the  world  would  fain  be  present  at  one  or  the 
other  of  the  four  marriages,  it  was  concluded  that  they 
should  be  held  in  the  open  air,  and  the  captain  with 
much  enthusiasm  directed  the  spreading  of  an  open  tent, 
or,  more  properly,  a canopy  upon  the  greensward  stretch- 
ing across  the  King’s  Highway  from  Bradford’s  house 
to  Hopkins’s. 

This  completed,  and  the  military  band  paraded  ready 
to  salute  the  governor  upon  his  arrival,  Standish  stood 
aside,  wiping  his  brow,  and  looking  jovially  about  him 
at  the  tables  already  spread  with  the  wedding  feast, 
which  was  thriftily  to  take  the  place  of  the  villagers’ 
ordinary  dinner. 

“ A cheerful  and  a refreshing  season,  Captain,”  said 
a staid  voice  at  his  elbow. 


MARRIAGE  BELLS . 


391 


“ Ay,”  replied  Sfcandish  briefly  and  with  something  of 
the  good-humor  gone  from  his  face,  for  he  had  no  great 
love  for  Isaac  Allerton,  Assistant  of  the  Governor,  and 
one  of  the  principal  men  of  the  colony,  though  he  was. 

“ Methinks  you  and  I might  be  principals  instead  of 
spectators  at  some  such  solemnity,  and  offend  no  law 
of  God  or  man.” 

“ I know  no  law  against  your  being  wed  if  it  pleases 
you,  Master  Allerton,”  replied  the  soldier  briefly. 

“No  — no,  as  you  justly  say,  no  law,  Captain,  and 
truth  to  tell  I had  it  in  my  mind  to  speak  to  you  this 
morning  ” — 

“ To  me,  to  me  ! ” exclaimed  the  captain,  wheeling 
round  and  staring  at  the  smooth  face  and  narrow  figure 
of  the  assistant.  “ Dost  fancy  that  I am  a pretty  maid 
hid  within  a buff  jerkin  ? ” 

“ Ha ! ha  ! Our  good  captain  still  must  have  his 
joke.  Nay  then,  in  sober  earnest  my  dear  brother,  your 
cousin,  Mistress  Barbara  Standish,  doth  much  commend 
herself  to  my  mind  as  a discreet  and  godly  maiden,  no- 
table in  household  ways,  and  of  a mild  and  biddable 
nature.  I fain  would  have  her  to  wife,  Standish,  if  I 
may  do  so  with  your  consent.” 

“ Nay  now,  Master  Allerton,  your  eyes  are  keener 
after  a good  chance  for  trucking  than  ever  a pair  in  the 
colony,  and  I ’m  not  saying  that  the  governor  could 
find  a better  assistant  in  his  weighty  affairs  of  State, 
but  you  ’ve  no  more  eye  for  a gentlewoman’s  good  quali- 
ties than  I have  for  a peddler’s.  ‘ Mild  and  biddable,’ 
forsooth  ! Those  virtues  were  left  out  when  they  brewed 
the  Standish  blood,  Master  Allerton,  and  courage  and 
honor  and  some  other  trifles  thrown  in  to  make  amends. 
Why  man,  should  you  wed  Barbara  Standish  and  raise 


392 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


a hand  upon  her  as  I Ve  seen  you  do  upon  your  daugh- 
ters, woman-grown,  I ’d  not  answer  but  she ’d  have  your 
life’s  blood  for  it ; and  if  you  bade  her  stint  the  measure 
of  the  corn  she  sold  to  your  neighbors,  she ’d  quit  your 
roof  and  you,  before  you  could  say  whiskerando  ! No, 
no,  Master  Allerton,  best  not  try  to  mate  yourself  with  a 
Standish.  No  luck  would  come  on  ’t  I promise  you.” 

“Methinks,  Captain  Standish,”  replied  the  councilor 
smoothly,  although  his  pale  face  had  taken  a livid  cast 
harmonizing  with  a green  light  in  his  narrow  eyes,  — 
“ methinks  you  take  over  much  upon  yourself  in  this 
our  land  of  liberty  and  God-given  rights.  Why  should 
you  decide  so  absolutely  for  Mistress  Standish?  Why 
may  not  she  speak  her  own  mind.  She  at  least  has  no 
narrow  and  ignorant  prejudice  against  me,  unless  indeed 
you  have  already  instilled  it  into  her  mind.” 

“ Nay  now,  Allerton,  dost  in  sober  sadness  suppose 
that  in  meeting  my  kinswoman  after  a five  years’  part- 
ing I chose  you  as  my  theme  of  discourse  ? As  for  the 
rest,  I lay  no  constraint  upon  Mistress  Standish.  Speak 
to  her  if  you  will  and  as  soon  as  you  will,  but  tell  her 
all  the  story,  tell  her  of  your  grown  children,  and  of 
your  years  ” — 

“ They  are  no  more  than  yours,”  sharply  interrupted 
the  councilor. 

“ Did  I say  they  were  ? Well,  speak  to  her  I say  — 
ha,  here  come  the  brides.  Now  trumpets  ! ” 

And  as  the  trumpets  blew  a joyous  fanfare  and  the 
drums  and  fife  burst  forth  in  a blithe  jargon  intended 
for  the  good  old  tune  of  Haste  to  the  Wedding,  out  from 
the  door  of  the  governor’s  house  came  Bradford  leading 
Alice  Southworth,  fair  and  delicate  and  sweet,  yet  with 
a little  air  of  state  about  her,  as  one  who  had  already 


MARRIAGE  BELLS . 


393 


known  the  honors  of  matronhood  and  now  was  called 
to  become  the  wife  of  a ruler.  Next  came  Priscilla, 
dressed  in  a fair  white  gown  trimmed  with  old  Flemish 
lace  at  which  Mistress  Winslow  looked  askance,  her 
rich  color  a little  subdued,  and  a somewhat  tremulous 
curve  to  her  ripe  lips,  while  the  great  brown  eyes  were 
filled  with  a dreamy  haze  not  far  from  tears.  She  was 
wedding  the  man  of  her  love,  but  she  stood  all  alone 
beside  him,  this  brave  yet  tender-hearted  Priscilla  of 
ours,  — she  stood  alone,  and  she  thought  of  her  mother, 
the  mother  so  loved,  so  mourned,  so  near  to  that  faith- 
ful heart  to-day. 

Then  came  well-born,  well  - nurtured  John  Winslow 
and  Mary  Chilton,  the  fair  English  May  whose  sweet 
blossoms  are  ever  upheld  by  such  a sturdy  and  healthy 
stock,  ay,  and  are  protected  by  substantial  thorns  from 
meddling  fingers  even  while  its  fragrance  is  graciously 
shed  abroad  for  all  the  world  to  glory  in. 

And  last  of  all  came  John  Howland,  that  “ lusty  yonge 
man  ” who  on  the  voyage  had  been  washed  overboard 
and  carried  fathoms  deep  beneath  the  sea,  yet  by  his 
courage  and  endurance  survived  the  ordeal,  and  lived  to 
found  one  of  the  chiefest  Plymouth  families.  By  the 
hand  he  led  Elizabeth  Tilley,  a sweet  slip  of  a girl,  with 
true  and  loving  eyes  ever  and  anon  glancing  proudly  at 
the  stalwart  form  of  the  only  man  she  ever  loved,  and 
yet  never  thought  to  win. 

Four  noble  and  comely  couple  pacing  through  the 
grassy  street  and  taking  their  places  under  the  canopy 
where  Elder  Brewster,  a magistrate,  if  not  an  ordained 
minister,  stood  beside  a little  table  whereon  was  laid  the 
colony’s  first  Record  Book  brought  by  the  Anne,  and  now 
to  be  used  for  the  first  time,  for  hitherto  the  “ scanty  an- 


394 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


nals  of  the  poor  ” settlement  had  been  kept  in  Governor 
Bradford’s  note-book,  now  alas  lost  to  posterity. 

The  simple  ceremony  was  soon  over,  and  as  the  Sep- 
aratists denied  themselves  the  privilege  of  a religious 
service  lest  some  taint  of  Papistry  might  lurk  therein, 
Elder  Brewster  closed  his  magisterial  office  with  a 
prayer  in  which  Isaac  and  Rebecca  were  not  forgotten, 
and  about  which  hung  a curious  flavor  of  the  Church 
of  England  service  so  familiar  to  the  elder’s  youth. 

“ Priscilla  ! Mine  at  last ! My  very  own,”  whis- 
pered John  Alden  in  his  bride’s  ear  as  the  group  broke 
up  and  all  the  world  pressed  in  to  offer  congratula- 
tions. 

“ There,  there,  John,  if  thou  hast  but  just  discovered 
that  notable  fact  I ’ll  leave  thee  to  digest  it  while  I go 
to  see  that  the  dinner  is  served  as  it  should  be.” 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 


“AND  TO  BE  WROTH  WITH  ONE  WE  LOVE.’* 

“ Barbara,  hath  Master  Allerton  asked  thee  to  be 
his  wife  ? ” inquired  Myles,  as  he  and  his  cousin  sat  to- 
gether upon  the  bench  in  front  of  his  own  house  some 
few  evenings  after  the  weddings. 

“ He  spoke  to  the  governor,  and  he  to  me,”  replied 
Barbara,  a little  spark  of  mirth  glinting  in  her  blue  eyes. 

“ And  thou  saidst  ? ” — 

“ I said  that  I hardly  knew  Master  Allerton  by  sight 
as  yet,  and  was  in  no  haste  to  wed.” 

“What  sort  of  yea-nay  answer  was  that,  thou  silly 
wench  ? Why  didst  not  say  No,  round  and  full  ? ” 

“ Because  No,  wrapped  in  gentle  words,  served  my 
turn  as  well,  cousin.” 

“ Come  now,  I do  remember  that  tone  of  old,  soft  as 
snow  and  unbendable  as  ice.  So ’t  is  the  same  Barbara 
I quarreled  with  so  oft,  is  it  ? Ever  quite  sure  that  her 
own  way  is  the  best,  and  ever  watchful  lest  any  should 
lay  a finger  on  her  free  will.” 

“ Methinks,  Myles,  you  give  your  kinswoman  a some- 
what unlovely  temper  of  her  own.  How  is  it  about 
Captain  Standish  in  these  days  ? Hath  he  grown  meek 
and  mild,  and  afraid  to  carry  himself  after  his  own 
mind  ? ” 

“ Why  so  tart,  Barbara  ? Because  I chid  thee  fot 
trifling  with  Allerton  ? ” 


896 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Nay  Myles,  I made  not  yon  weary  voyage  for  the 
sake  of  quarreling  with  thee.  Well  dost  thou  know, 
cousin,  I would  not  trifle  with  any  man,  and  I begged 
the  governor  to  enforce  out  of  his  own  mouth  the  no- 
say  that  I worded  gently,  for  truly  there  is  no  reason 
for  me  to  flout  the  gentleman.  How  could  he  honor  me 
more  than  to  ask  me  to  wife  ? ” 

“Well,  well,  so  long  as  thou  hast  said  No  and  will 
stick  to  No,  all  is  well ; but  I like  not  this  man  Aller- 
ton  ; he  is  too  shrewd  a trader  for  a simple  gentleman  to 
cope  with.  He  sold  me  corn  and  gave  scant  measure, 
and  I told  him  of  it  too.  He  likes  me  not  better  than  I 
like  him.” 

“ Rest  easy,  Myles,  I ’ll  never  make  him  thy  cousin. 
I care  not  if  I never  wed.” 

“ Nay,  that ’s  too  far  on  t’  other  side  the  hedge.  A 
comely  and  a winsome  lass  like  thee  is  sure  to  wed,  but 
what  runs  in  my  head,  Barbara,  is  that  there  is  none 
left  here  fit  for  thee.  I would  that  Bradford  had  not 
been  so  constant  to  his  old-time  sweetheart.  I would 
have  given  thee  to  him,  for  though  his  folk  were  but 
yeomen  of  the  better  sort  there  at  home,  here  he  is  the 
Governor  and  playeth  his  part  as  well  as  any  Howard 
or  Percy  of  them  all.  Winslow  cometh  of  good  lineage 
and  carrieth  his  coat-armor ; but  he  and  now  his  brother 
John  are  wed,  and  Gilbert  will  leave  us  anon,  so  that 
verily  I see  no  man  left  with  whom  a Standisli  might 
fitly  wed.” 

A peal  of  merry  laughter  broke  in  upon  the  captain’s 
meditative  pause,  and  his  indignant  and  astonished  re- 
gard only  seemed  to  aggravate  the  matter,  until  at  last 
Barbara  breathlessly  exclaimed,  — 

“ Nay  Myles,  for  sweet  pity’s  sake  look  not  so  glum, 


“TO  BE  WROTH  WITH  ONE  WE  LOVE.”  397 


nor  devour  me  all  at  one  mouthful.  Dost  remember 
how  I used  to  tell  thee  to  beware,  for  6 a little  pot  is 
soon  hot/  and  thine  own  wrath  will  choke  thee  some 
day  ? ” 

“ Glad  am  I to  amuse  you  so  pleasantly  Mistress  Stan- 
dish,  but  may  I ask  the  exact  provocation  to  mirth  I 
have  just  now  offered  ? ” 

“ Oh  Myles,  I meant  not  to  chafe  thy  temper  so 
sorely,  and  I pray  thee  hold  me  excused  for  untimely 
laughter ; but  in  good  sooth  it  so  tickled  my  fancy  to 
hear  thee  airing  thine  old  world  quips  and  quiddities 
about  coat-armor,  and  one  with  whom  a Standish  might 
fitly  wed,  and  yeomen  snatched  from  oblivion  by  the 
saving  grace  of  a governor’s  title ! And  look  upon 
these  rocks  and  wild  woods  and  swart  savages  and 
thine  own  rude  labors  — nay  then,  but  I must  laugh  or 
burst ! ” 

And  giving  way  to  her  humor  the  girl  trolled  out 
peal  after  peal  of  delicious  laughter,  while  her  cousin 
folding  his  arms  sat  regarding  her  with  an  iron  visage, 
which  whenever  she  caught  sight  of  it  set  her  off  again. 
At  last,  however,  she  wiped  her  eyes  and  penitently 
cried,  — 

“I  did  not  think  myself  so  rude,  Myles.  Pr’ythee 
forgive  me,  cousin.  Nay,  look  not  so  ungently  upon 
me  ! Here ’s  my  hand  on ’t  I am  sorry.” 

But  the  captain  took  not  the  offered  hand  nor  unbent 
his  angry  brow.  Rising  from  the  bench  he  paced  up 
and  down  for  a moment,  then  stopping  in  front  of  Bar* 
bara  calmly  said,  — 

“ Nay,  I ’m  not  angry.  At  first  I was  astonied 
that  a gentlewoman  could  so  forget  herself ; but  I do 
vemember  that  Thomas  Standish,  your  father,  married 


398 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


beneath  his  station,  and  so  imported  a strain  into  the 
blood  of  his  noble  house  that  will  crop  out  now  and 
again  in  his  children.  I should  not  therefore  too  much 
admire  at  such  derelictions  from  courtesy  and  gentle- 
hood as  I but  now  have  seen.” 

As  he  slowly  spoke  his  bitter  words  the  lingering 
gleams  of  laughter  and  the  softening  lines  of  penitence 
faded  from  Barbara’s  face.  Rising  to  her  height, 
nearly  equal  with  that  of  her  cousin,  she  gazed  full  into 
his  angry  eyes  with  the  blue  splendor  of  her  own  all 
ablaze  with  indignation  and  contempt. 

“ You  dare  to  make  light  of  my  mother,  do  you,  Cap- 
tain Standish ! My  dear  and  dearly  honored  mother, 
who  in  her  brave  love  endured  the  poverty  and  the 
labors  that  my  father  had  no  skill  to  save  her  from. 
My  mother,  who  carried  her  noble  husband  upon  her 
shoulders  as  it  were,  and  would  not  even  die  till  he  was 
dead.  Myles  Standish,  I take  shame  to  myself  that  I 
am  kin  to  you,  and  if  ever  I do  wed,  it  shall  be  to  lose 
my  name  and  forget  my  lineage.” 

She  passed  him  going  down  the  hill,  but  with  a long 
step  he  overtook  her,  saying  almost  timidly,  — 

“ Nay,  nay,  thou  ’rt  over  sharp  with  me,  Barbara ! I 
said,  and  I meant,  no  word  against  thy  mother,  of  whom 
I ever  heard  report  as  one  of  the  sweetest  and  faith- 
fullest  of  wives  ” — 

“ There,  that  will  do,  sir.  My  mother  needs  no  praise 
of  yours,  and,  thanks  be  to  God,  hath  gone  where  she 
may  rest  from  the  burden  of  her  high  marriage.  Let 
me  pass  an  ’t  please  you,  Master  Captain.” 

“ But  Barbara,  nay  Barbara,  stay  but  to  hear  a 
word  ” — 

“ There  have  been  words  enow  and  to  spare.  I go 


“ TO  BE  WROTH  WITH  ONE  WE  LOVE”  399 


now  to  tell  the  governor  that  I am  minded  to  take  pas* 
sage  in  the  Anne  once  more.  My  mother’s  folk  in  Bed- 
fordshire, yeomen  all  of  them,  Captain  Standish,  will 
make  me  gay  and  welcome,  and  with  them  and  such  as 
them  will  I live  and  die.” 

“ And  fill  thy  leisure  with  fashioning  silk  purses  out 
of  fabric  thou  ’It  find  to  hand,”  cried  the  captain,  his 
temper  flashing  up  again ; but  Barbara  neither  turned 
nor  replied  as  she  fled  down  the  hill  to  hide  the  tears 
she  could  no  longer  restrain. 

Howbeit  she  said  no  word  to  Bradford  of  the  return 
passage,  a fact  which  Standish  easily  discovered  when 
early  next  morning  he  met  the  governor  and  stopped 
to  say  to  him,  — 

“ Well  met,  Will ; I was  on  my  road  to  seek  thee, 
man.” 

“ Ay,  and  for  what,  brother  ? ” 

“ Why,  Will,  I ’m  moped  with  naught  to  do,  and  all 
these  strange  faces  at  every  turn.  I liked  it  better 
when  we  were  to  ourselves  and  it  was  only  to  fight  the 
Neponsets  now  and  again.  I fain  would  find  some 
work  further  agate  than  yon  palisado.” 

“ Why,  then,  thy  wish  and  my  desire  fit  together  as 
cup  and  ball,  for  here  is  the  Little  James  unladen  and 
idle.  She  is  to  stay  with  us,  thou  knowest,  for  use  in 
trading  and  fishing,  but  Bridges,  her  master,  saith  some 
of  his  men  are  grumbling  already  at  prospect  of  such 
peaceful  emprises.  They  fain  would  go  buccaneering 
in  the  Spanish  Seas,  or  discover  some  such  road  to  hasty 
fortune,  albeit  bloody  and  violent.  Master  Bridges  and 
I agreed  that  it  was  best  to  find  work  for  these  uneasy 
souls  withouten  too  much  delay,  and  I told  him  we  had 
been  thinking  to  send  a party  to  look  after  the  fishing-* 


400 


STANDISff  OF  STANDISB. 


stage  we  built  last  year  at  Cape  Ann.  Gloucester,  they 
say  Roger  Conant  hath  named  the  place  already.  Now 
what  say  you,  Myles  ? Will  take  some  men  and  join 
them  to  Bridges’  buccaneers,  and  hold  all  in  hand  and 
start  them  on  fishing  ? ” 

“ ’T  will  suit  me  woundy  well,  governor.  Howbeit, 
’ 1 is  not  the  time  for  cod,  is  it  ? ” 

“ No,  but  mackerel  and  bluefish  are  in  season,  and 
at  all  odds ’t  is  well  to  be  on  hand  to  claim  the  staging, 
for  Conant  hath  sent  word  by  an  Indian  that  some  Eng- 
lish shij3s  were  harrying  our  fishermen  at  Monhegan, 
and  we  had  best  look  to  our  properties  in  those  regions.” 
“ Ay,  ay,  ’t  is  as  thou  sayest,  Will,  like  cup  and  ball, 
thy  need  and  my  desire.  How  soon  can  we  sail  ? ” 

“ Why,  to-night,  an’  it  pleaseth  thee.  Bridges  is  in 
haste  to  get  off,  and  the  sooner  the  Little  James  is  afloat 
the  more  content  he  will  find  himself.  And  as  to  thy 
company.  Here  is  a minute  of  the  men  I had  thought 
on.” 

“ H — m,  h — m,”  muttered  the  captain  glancing  over 
the  list  handed  him  by  Bradford.  6i  Yes,  these  are 
sound  good  fellows  all,  and  none  of  them  burthened 
with  wives.  And  by  that  same  token,  Will,  thou  and 
thy  dame  will  care  for  my  kinswoman,  and  bar  Master 
Allerton  from  persecuting  her  with  his  most  mawkish 
suit  while  I am  gone  ? ” 

“ Surely,  Myles,  we  ’ll  care  for  Mistress  Barbara,  who 
is  to  my  wife  as  one  of  her  own  sisters.” 

“ Yes,  the  Carpenters  are  gentlefolk,  if  not  a county 
family  like  ours,”  said  Standish  simply.  Bradford 
stared  a little,  but  only  replied,  — 

“ Then  I put  the  command  in  your  hands,  Captain, 
and  you  will  order  matters  as  suits  your  own  con- 


“TO  BE  WROTH  WITH  ONE  WE  LOVET  401 

venience  and  pleasure.  Master  Bridges  will  welcome 
you  right  gladly/ ’ 

And  before  the  sun,  just  risen  over  Manomet,  sank 
behind  Captain’s  Hill,  the  Little  James  had  rounded 
the  Gurnet,  and  was  standing  on  for  Cape  Ann,  with 
Myles  Standish  leaning  against  her  mainmast,  and 
smoking  the  pipe  Hobomok  had  bestowed  upon  him  with 
the  assurance  that  he  who  used  it  carried  a charmed 
life  so  long  as  it  remained  unbroken.  The  captain’s 
arms  were  folded  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  fort- 
crowned  hill  where  lay  his  home,  but  it  was  not  of  fort 
or  home  that  he  mused  as  at  the  last  he  muttered,  — 

“ And  yet  I glory  in  thy  spirit,  thou  proud  peat ! ” 
Early  the  next  morning  Standish  was  somewhat 
roughly  roused  from  his  slumbers  by  Master  Bridges, 
who,  shaking  his  shoulder,  cried,  — 

“ Here,  Captain,  here ’s  gear  for  thee.  Rouse  thee, 
Master ! ” 

“ What  is ’t,  Bridges  ? What ’s  to  do,  man  ? Are 
the  savages  upon  us  ? ” 

“ Nay,  but  pirates,  or  as  good/ 

“ Ha ! That ’s  well.  Send  all  your  small  arms  on 
deck,  Master  Bridges,  pipe  to  quarters,  train  your  falcon 
— I ’ll  be  on  deck  anon  ” — 

“Nay,  but  you  do  somewhat  mistake,  Captain.  I 
said  indeed  pirates,  but  that ’s  not  sure.  There  is 
a little  ship  anchored  within  a cable’s  length  of  the 
James,  and  her  men  are  busy  on  shore  with  the  fishing- 
stage  which  Lister  saith  is  yours  ” — 

“ And  so  it  is,  every  sliver  of  it.” 

“ Mayhap,  then,  you  ’ll  come  on  deck  and  tell  these 
merry  men  as  much,  for  they  do  only  jeer  at  me.” 

“ They  ’ll  not  jeer  long  when  my  snaphance  joins  in 


402 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


the  debate,”  said  Standish  grimly  as  he  followed  the 
master  up  the  companion  way. 

“ Hail  me  yon  craft,  and  ask  for  her  commandant,” 
ordered  he,  glancing  rapidly  over  the  scene.  Bridges 
obeyed,  and  got  reply  that  Master  Hewes,  captain  of 
the  Fisherman  out  of  Southampton,  was  on  shore  with 
all  his  men  except  the  ship-keeper,  who,  however,  spared 
the  jibes  with  which  he  had  seasoned  his  repi^  to 
Bridges’  first  informal  hail. 

“ The  wind  is  fair,  the  tide  flood.  Carry  your  craft 
further  in-shore,  Master  Bridges,  that  we  may  parley 
with  these  pirates  from  the  vantage  ground  of  our  own 
deck,”  ordered  the  captain,  and  was  obeyed  so  fairly 
that  the  Little  James  presently  lay  hove-to  within  a bis- 
cuit-toss of  the  staging,  where  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
men  were  diligently  employed  in  curing  a take  of  fish. 

A short  sharp  colloquy  ensued,  Standish  claiming  the 
erection  and  its  precincts  as  the  property  of  Plymouth, 
and  ordering  the  interlopers  to  at  once  release  it,  and 
to  carry  away  their  fish  and  their  utensils,  leaving  room 
for  the  lawful  owners’  occupancy. 

To  this  demand  Hewes  impudently  replied  that  when 
he  had  done  with  the  fish-flakes  he  cared  not  who  used 
them,  and  that  he  would  abandon  the  place  when  it 
suited  his  own  convenience,  and  not  before. 

“Well  and  good;  then  we  shall  come  and  take  it,” 
shouted  the  captain  in  conclusion,  and  turning  his  atten- 
tion in-board,  he  rapidly  divided  his  men  and  Bridges’ 
into  two  storming  parties,  while  a watch  left  on  board 
was  to  take  charge  of  the  light  falcon  mounted  on  deck, 
and  at  a signal  from  shore  to  begin  the  dance  by  firing 
upon  the  staging  which  Hewes  was  already  barricading 
with  a row  of  barrels,  behind  which  he  rapidly  posted 
his  men,  musket  in  hand,  and  matches  alight. 


“TO  BE  WROTH  WITH  ONE  WE  LOVE”  403 


“ Now  by  St.  Lawrence ! ” cried  Standish,  watching 
these  preparations.  “ But  the  fellow  hath  a pretty  notion 
of  a barricade ! I coulc^  not  have  done  so  very  much 
better  in  his  place.  ’T  is  fairer  fortune  than  we  could 
look  for,  to  meet  so  ready  a fellow,  and  you  shall  see 
some  pretty  sport  anon,  Master  Bridges/’ 

But  at  this  moment  a little  group  of  men  hastening 
from  the  fishing  huts  marking  the  present  site  of 
Gloucester,  appeared  upon  the  scene,  and  in  their  leader 
both  Standish  and  Bridges  recognized  Roger  Conant,  a 
friend  and  sometime  visitor  of  Plymouth,  who  imme- 
diately upon  arrival  of  the  Anne  had  gone  to  join  some 
friends  fishing  at  Monhegan,  and  now,  with  them,  was 
establishing  a sister  station  at  Gloucester.  Warned  by 
the  Indians  that  Hewes  had  seized  the  Plymouth  fishing- 
stage,  and  seeing  the  Little  James  entering  the  bay, 
Conant  hastened  to  collect  his  friends  and  present  him- 
self upon  the  scene  of  action  to  act  as  mediator,  or  ally 
of  Plymouth,  as  circumstances  might  direct. 

“ We  have  come  none  too  soon,  men  ! ” exclaimed 
Conant  breathlessly  as  at  a run  he  rounded  the  head- 
land closing  in  the  cove,  and  saw  upon  the  barricaded 
staging  Hewes  and  his  men  blowing  at  their  matches, 
while  Standish,  his  eyes  aflame  and  an  angry  smile  upon 
his  lips,  sprang  ashore  and  hurried  his  men  out  of  the 
boat. 

“ Now  glad  am  I to  see  you,  Master  Conant,”  cried 
Bridges,  already  waiting  upon  the  beach,  and  hastening 
toward  him  he  said  in  a lower  voice.  “ Our  captain 
hath  got  on  his  fighting  cap,  and  thrown  discretion  to 
the  winds.  ’T  will  be  an  ill  day  for  Plymouth  if  her 
men  are  led  on  to  kill  Englishmen  fishing  with  the 
king’s  license.” 


404 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Ay  indeed  will  it.  Bide  a bit  till  I can  parley  with 
both  thy  captain  and  Hewes,  who  is  not  an  ill  fellow  if 
one  handleth  him  gingerly.” 

“ Gingerly  goetli  not  smoothly  with  peppery,  and ’t  is 
but  half  the  truth  to  call  our  captain  that,”  said  Bridges 
with  a dry  smile,  as  Conant  passed  him  to  reach  Stan- 
dish  who  was  marshaling  his  men  upon  the  sands. 

Too  long  it  were  to  detail  the  arguments  of  the  man 
of  peace,  the  delicate  manipulation  of  the  tempers  of 
both  parties,  the  concessions  wrung  from  the  one  side 
and  the  other,  until  after  several  hours’  debate  Standish 
moodily  said,  — 

“ Well  Conant,  sith  you  put  it  so,  sitli  you  make  it  out 
that  by  enforcing  the  colony’s  right  I do  but  attack  the 
colony’s  life,  I yield,  for  I am  sworn  defender  and  cham- 
pion of  Plymouth  and  her  prosperity,  and  never  shall 
it  be  said  that  Myles  Standish  preferred  his  own  quar- 
rel to  the  well-being  of  those  he  had  sworn  to  protect. 
To  leave  yon  fellow  unscathed  for  his  insolence,  sits  like 
a blister  on  a raw  wound,  but  go  and  make  what  terms 
you  can  with  him.  I suppose  you  require  not  that  I 
abandon  the  colony’s  property  altogether  to  him.” 

“ Nay,  nay,  Captain,  but  I am  thinking  that  my  com- 
rades and  I,  with  some  of  the  Little  James’  men  and 
Master  Hewes’  company,  should  clap  to  and  run  up 
another  staging  in  a few  hours  either  for  the  new-comers 
or  the  Plymouth  men  ” — 

“ For  Plymouth  if  you  would  pleasure  me.  I would 
not  my  men  should  take  the  leavings  of  yon  rabble  at 
any  price,”  interrupted  Standish  haughtily. 

“ So  be  it,  and  if  Hewes  with  his  men  will  do  their 
best,  and  Master  Bridges  and  you  will  send  your  crew 
to  help,  we  also  will  labor  in  the  common  cause  until 


" TO  BE  WROTH  WITH  ONE  WE  LOVE.”  405 


each  party  shall  have  a staging  of  its  own,  and  the  bond 
of  Christian  charity  need  not  be  broken.” 

“ That  same  bond  will  be  all  the  safer  if  I may  get 
away  from  here  with  as  small  delay  as  may  be,”  re- 
torted Standish. 

“ And  that  too  shall  be,”  replied  Conant  cheerfully. 
“ For  I fain  would  speak  with  the  Master  of  the  Anne 
before  she  sails,  and  I ’ll  e’en  take  our  own  pinnace 
and  set  you  across  the  bay,  and  be  back  again  before 
my  mates  have  well  missed  me.” 

“ So  wilt  thou  save  me  from  some  such  explosion  as 
befalls  when  a little  pot  is  tightly  closed  and  its  con- 
tents overheated,”  replied  Myles  with  a grim  smile,  and 
although  Conant  stared  at  the  odd  simile,  he  paused  not 
to  ask  its  solution,  but  so  hastened  the  building  of  the 
stage  and  the  other  business  of  the  day  that  when  sun- 
set fell,  the  two  men,  leaving  the  rest  at  an  amicable  sup- 
per eaten  in  common,  spread  the  wide  sails  of  their  pin- 
nace to  a fitful  western  wind,  and  skimmed  southward 
under  the  soothing  and  chastening  light  of  the  new- 
risen  moon. 

The  western  wind  though  often  sighing  in  capricious 
languor  never  quite  deserted  those  who  trusted  to  it, 
and  at  a good  hour  next  morning  the  pinnace  dropped 
her  anchor  beside  the  Anne,  and  her  dory  carried  the 
two  men  ashore  just  as  Plymouth  woke  to  a new  day. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


BARBARA. 

“ Wilt  give  me  some  breakfast,  Priscilla  ? ” asked  a 
well-known  voice,  as  Mistress  Alden  bent  to  uncover 
her  bake  kettle,  or  Dutch  oven,  to  see  if  the  manchets 
of  fine  flour  her  husband  liked  so  heartily  were  well 
browned. 

“ Lord-a-mercy ! ” cried  she  nearly  dropping  the  cover 
and  springing  to  her  feet.  “ What,  ’t  is  truly  thee,  Cap- 
tain, and  not  thy  spook  ? Why ’t  was  but  yester  e’exn 
Dame  Bradford  told  me  thou  wert  away  with  Master 
Bridges  on  a fishing  adventure,  and  none  might  guess 
the  day  of  thy  return.” 

“ She  said  so,  did  she  ? ” replied  the  captain  ; “ and 
who  heard  it  beside  thee,  Priscilla  ? ” 

“ Why  — now  let  me  think  — yea  and  verily,  Chris- 
tian Penn  was  in  the  room  and  no  doubt  heard  the  sad 
tidings  though  she  said  naught.” 

“ And  none  beside,  Mistress  Alden  ? ” 

“ None  — nay,  now  I think  on ’t,  thy  kinswoman  Bar« 
bara  was  in  presence.  But  there,  my  manchets  will  be 
burnt  to  crusts.  Sit  thee  down,  Captain,  sit  thee  down.” 
“And  what  said  Mistress  Standish  anent  my  go- 
ing ? ” asked  Myles  seating  himself  upon  a three-legged 
stool  and  doffing  his  slouched  hat. 

Priscilla  looked  at  him  with  one  of  the  keen  glances 
which  John  declared  counted  the  cockles  of  a man’s 


BARBARA . 407 

heart.  Then  she  smiled  with  an  air  of  satisfaction  and 
replied,  — 

“ Barbara  said  naught,  and  so  told  me  much.” 

“ Told  thee  much  ? Come  now,  Priscilla,  spare  me 
thine  old-time  jibes  and  puzzlements  and  show  thyself 
true  womanly,  and  mine  own  honest  friend.  I ’m  sore 
bestead,  Priscilla  — I have  a quarrel  with  Myles  Stan- 
dish,  and ’t  is  as  big  a fardel  as  my  shoulders  will  bear. 
Tell  me  what  Barbara’s  silence  meant  to  thee  ? ” 

“ It  meant  that  it  was  her  doings  that  thou  hadst 
gone,  and  that  thy  going  both  angered  and  grieved  her, 
Captain.” 

“ Angered,  mayhap.” 

“Yea,  and  grieved.  She  ate  no  supper,  although  I 
prayed  her  to  taste  a new  confection  of  mine  own  in- 
vention.” 

“ Priscilla,  dost  think  Master  Allerton  would  be  — 
would  make  a ” — 

“Would  be  the  right  goodman  for  Barbara?  No, 
and  no  again,  I think  naught  of  the  kind.” 

“ Ah ! You  women  are  so  quick  upon  the  trigger, 
Priscilla.  I would  my  snapkance  went  to  the  aim  as 
lightly  and  as  surely  as  your  or  Barbara’s  thought.” 

“ Come  now,  Captain,  the  manchets  are  done,  and 
the  fish  is  broiled,  and  the  porridge  made.  Wait  but 
till  I call  the  goodman  and  open  a pottle  of  my  summer 
beer ; ’t  is  dear  Dame  Brewster’s  diet-drink,  with  a 
thought  more  flavor  to  it,  and  John  says  — ah,  here 
thou  art,  thou  big  sluggard.  We  need  no  horn  to  call 
thee  to  thy  meat.” 

Entering  the  cottage  with  a grin  upon  his  lips  and 
t\ie  promise  of  a kiss  in  his  eyes,  Alden  started  joyfully 
at  sight  of  the  Captain,  and  at  Priscilla’s  impatient 


408 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


summons  he  bashfully  took  the  head  of  the  table  and 
asked  the  blessing  upon  his  family  and  their  daily  bread, 
which  was  then  the  undisputed  duty  of  every  head  of 
a household.  The  captain  ate  well,  as  Priscilla  slyly 
noted ; and  as  she  rose  from  the  table  and  began  rap- 
idly to  carry  the  few  pewter  and  wooden  dishes  to  the 
scullery  John  had  added  to  the  two  rooms  and  loft 
comprising  the  cottage,  she  muttered,  — 

“What  fools  we  women  be!  When  they  care  for 
us  the  most,  a savory  dish  will  comfort  them,  and  we 
must  pule,  and  pine,  and  pale  — ah  ! ” 

For  the  captain  had  followed  and  stood  at  the  house- 
wife’s elbow  with  a confused  and  somewhat  foolish 
smile  upon  his  face. 

“ Wilt  do  me  a favour,  Priscilla  ? ” 

“ Gladly,  as  thou  knowest,  sir.” 

“ Nay,  sir  me  no  sirs,  Priscilla ! Take  me  for  thine 
own  familiar  friend  as  already  I am  Alden’s.” 

“ ’T  is  an  ill-advised  quotation,  Captain,  for  the  ‘ own 
familiar  friend’  of  the  Psalmist  proved  a false  one. 
But  ne’ertheless  I ’ll  wear  the  cap,  and  haply  prove  as 
true  as  another  to  my  promise.  What  can  I do  for 
thee,  Captain  ? ” 

“Why  — as  thou  dost  seem  to  surmise,  Priscilla, 
there  is  a question  between  Barbara  and  me  — truth  to 
tell  I gave  her  just  matter  of  offense,  and  now  I ’ve 
thought  better  on ’t  and  fain  would  tell  her  so,  and  yet 
I fear  me  if  I ask  outright  she  ’ll  not  let  me  come  to 
speech  of  her.” 

“ Ay,  ay,  good  friend,  I see,”  exclaimed  Priscilla, 
holding  up  her  slender  shapely  hand.  “And  here ’s  the 
cat’s-paw  that ’s  to  pull  thy  chestnuts  from  the  fire ! ” 

“ Nay  Priscilla  ” — 


BARBARA. 


409 


“ Yea  Captain  ! Put  not  thy  wit  to  further  distress, 
good  friend,  for  it  needs  not ; I see  all  and  more  than 
all  thou  couldst  tell  me.  Go  thy  way  to  the  Fort,  and 
look  over  thy  dear  guns  and  wait  until  thou  seest  — 
what  thou  wilt  see.” 

And  with  a little  push  the  young  matron  thrust  her 
juest  out  of  the  open  door  of  the  scullery,  and  hasted 
to  finish  her  own  labors. 

Almost  an  hour  passed  and  the  Captain  of  the  Armies 
of  New  England  had  uncovered  and  examined  and 
sighted  and  petted  each  gun  in  his  armament  more  than 
once ; had  considered  the  range  of  the  saker,  the  minion3 
the  falcon,  and  the  bases ; and  had  stood  gazing  blankly 
at  the  whitened  skull  of  Wituwamat  above  the  gat* 
of  the  Fort  until  the  wrens  who  nested  there  began 
to  fly  restlessly  in  and  out,  fancying  that  the  captain 
planned  an  invasion  of  their  territory.  He  still  stood 
in  this  posture  when  the  rustle  of  a footfall  among  the 
dried  herbage  reached  his  quick  ear,  and  turning  he 
confronted  Barbara,  whose  down-dropt  eyes  hid  the 
gleam  of  amusement  the  sight  of  his  melancholy  atti- 
tude had  kindled  in  their  depths. 

“ Priscilla  says  that  you  have  returned  home  from  the 
fishing  because  you  were  but  poorly,  cousin,  and  she 
would  have  me  come  and  ask  if  you  cared  to  speak  with 
the  chirurgeon  who  is  going  afield  presently.” 

“ So  chill,  so  frozen,  Barbara  ? Is  ’t  so  a kinswoman 
should  speak  with  one  ill  at  ease  both  in  mind  and 
body  ? ” 

“ I came  but  as  a messenger,  sir,  and  venture  not  to 
presume  upon  any  claim  of  kindred  to  one  who  joins 
the  blood  of  Percivale  to  that  of  Standish.” 

w Nay  now,  nay  now,  Barbara  1 —Here,  come  to  the 


410 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


shaded  side  of  the  Fort,  and  sit  you  down  where  we 
two  sat  ” — 

“We  two  sat  on  the  bench  without  your  door  the  last 
parley  that  we  had,  good  cousin.” 

“ 6 Gentle  tongues  aye  give  the  sharpest  wounds,’  and 
it  is  thou  who  provest  the  proverb  true,  Barbara.” 

“ Nay,  I ’ll  sit  me  down  and  listen  with  all  meekness 
to  what  thou  hast  to  say,  Captain  Standish.” 

“ Thanks  for  even  so  much  courtesy,  Barbara,  for  I 
have  sought  thee  to  say  that  I deserve  none  at  thy 
hands.  I,  to  whose  protection  and  comforting  thou  hast 
come  across  the  sea,  have  treated  thee  as  no  base-born 
churl  hath  warrant  for  treating  the  meanest  of  woman- 
kind. I,  to  pride  myself  upon  gentle  blood  and  knightly 
training,  and  then  throw  insult  and  taunt  upon  a woman’s 
unshielded  head ! Nay,  Barbara,  had  any  man  three 
days  agone  forecast  my  doing  such  a thing,  I had  hurled 
the  lie  in  his  teeth,  and  haply  crammed  it  down  with 
Gideon’s  hilt.  Nay  — the  good  sword  may  well  be 
ashamed  of  his  master;  well  may  I look  for  him  to 
shiver  in  my  grasp  when  next  I draw  him  ” — 

“ Myles  ! Myles,  I ’ll  hear  no  more  ! Nay  then,  not 
a word,  or  I shall  hold  it  proven  that  my  wish  is  naught 
to  thee,  for  all  thy  contrite  sayings.  I fear  me  Priscilla 
is  right,  and  thou  ’rt  truly  ill.  This  hot  sun  hath 
touched  thy  head  with  some  such  distemper  as  sped 
poor  Master  Carver.  Sit  thee  down  here  beside  me, 
and  I ’ll  fetch  cool  water  from  the  spring  to  bathe  thy 
temples.” 

“ It  needs  not,  cousin.  My  distemper  is  of  the  mind, 
the  heart ; nay,  it  is  wounded  honor,  lass,  and  there ’s 
no  ill  of  body  can  sting  a man  so  shrewdly  as  that.  Say 
that  I have  thy  pardon,  Barbara,  if  thou  canst  say  it  in 


BARBARA . 411 

truth,  and ’t  will  be  better  than  any  med’cine  in  Fuller’s 
chest.” 

66  Why,  certes,  Myles,  thou  hast  my  forgiveness  and 
over  and  over  for  any  rough  word  thou  mayst  have 
said,  and  in  sober  sadness  I mind  not  what  they  were, 
for  all  my  thought  hath  been  of  my  unkindness  to  thee. 
Myles,  I never  told  thee,  but  when  thy  mother  lay 
a-dying,  and  thou  far  away,  fighting  the  Spaniards  in 
Holland,  she  bade  me  care  for  thee  even  as  she  would 
have  done,  and  fill  a sister’s  place  — and  more,  and  I 
laid  my  hand  in  hers  and  promised  sacredly,  and  so  she 
rested  content.” 

“ And  why  didst  never  tell  me  this  before,  cousin  ? ” 

“ I know  not  — nay,  but  that ’s  not  all  out  true,  and 
I ’ll  tell  thee  no  lies,  Myles.  When  next  thou  earnest 
to  our  poor  home  at  Man,  thou  didst  see  Rose,  and  from 
the  first  I knew  well  enow  that  there ’d  be  no  need  of 
sister-care  for  one  who  found  so  sweet  a wife.” 

“ Ay,  she  was  sweet,  — sweet  as  her  pretty  name. 
Dost  know,  Barbara,  when  these  bushes  burgeon  in  early 
summer  with  their  soft  and  fragrant  bloom  it  ever  minds 
me  of  that  sweet  and  fragile  Rose  that  lies  beneath.” 

But  Barbara  was  silent. 

“ Ah  well,  ah  well,  ’t  is  a brief  chapter  strangely  at 
odds  with  the  rude  life  wherein  it  found  itself,  and  now 
’t  is  closed,  and  better  so  for  her.  She  could  not  have 
bloomed  among  these  dreary  sands  and  savage  woods ; 
it  was  not  fitting.” 

He  paced  a few  steps  back  and  forward,  and  Barbara 
rose,  her  clear  eyes  full  of  a woman’s  noble  and  patient 
strength. 

“ And  so,  Myles,  we  are  at  peace  again,  and  I at  least 
will  make  it  my  endeavor  that  there  shall  be  no  such 
breach  of  charity  in  the  future.” 


412 


STANDISff  OF  STANDISB. 


“Nay,  Barbara,  stay  a little,  I pray  thee.  I have 
somewhat  to  say,  for  which  in  advance  I must  ask  thy 
patience  and  indulgence.  Thou  It  not  be  angered  at 
me  so  soon  again,  Barbara  ? ” 

“ Nay,  I ’ll  not  be  angered,  cousin.”  But  Barbara’s 
voice  was  very  sad. 

“ ’T  is  this,  and  I thought  of  it  all  last  night  as  we 
flitted  in  the  moonlight  across  the  bay,  and  what  thou 
sayest  of  my  mother’s  charge  to  thee  fits  my  thought 
like  hand  and  glove.  Why  should  not  we  two  wed, 
Barbara  ? ” 

He  turned  and  looked  at  her,  and  stood  amazed  to 
see  how  the  steadfast  calm  of  her  face  broke  up  in  a tem- 
pest of  indignation,  of  grief,  of  outraged  womanhood. 

“ Why,  Barbara ! Why,  cousin  ! What  is  it,  what 
have  I said  ? What  ails  thee,  dear  ? What  works  upon 
thee  so  cruelly  ? ” 

“ That  any  man  should  dare  fancy  it  of  me  — there, 
there,  let  be,  let  me  pass,  let  me  go  ! ” 

“ Nay,  then,  I ’ll  not  let  thee  go.  I ’m  but  a rude 
bungler  in  these  women-ways,  and  I ’ve  said  or  done 
somewhat  that  wounds  thee  sorely,  and  I ’ll  not  let  thee 
go  till ’t  is  all  outsaid  and  I have  once  more  cleared  my- 
self of  at  least  willful  offense  toward  thee.” 

“ Wilt  keep  me  by  force,  sir  ? ” 

“ Ay  maid  I will,  for  ’t  is  only  in  bodily  strength  that 
I ’m  thy  match,  and  so  for  the  moment  I will  e’en  use 
it.  Sit  thee  here  now  and  listen  yet  again,  as  I say, 
Why  may  not  we  two  wed,  cousin  Barbara  ? Thou  ’rt 
not  mine  own  cousin,  thou  knowest,  child  ; ’t  was  thy 
father  and  mine  were  in  that  bond ; and  — now  bear 
with  me,  Barbara  — I ’ve  a shrewd  suspicion  that  my 
mother  bade  thee  be  not  a sister  but  a wife  to  me. 
Truth  now,  did  she  not,  maid  ? ” 


BARBARA.  413 

“ She  could  not  guide  either  my  love  or  thine,  so  why 
would  she  try  ? ” 

“ Nay,  that ’s  no  answer,  lass,  but  we  ’ll  let  the  ques- 
tion go.  There ’s  not  a woman  alive,  Barbara,  so  dear 
to  me  as  thou ; there ’s  none  I hold  in  greater  reverence 
or  trust ; there ’s  none  with  whom  I would  so  gladly 
live  out  my  days,  and — though  now  I risk  thy  scorn, 
— there ’s  none  whose  lineage  I so  respect  ” — 

6 6 What,  the  Henley  lineage  ? ” murmured  Barbara, 
with  face  averted  to  hide  a smile. 

“ Nay,  thou  ’rt  all  Standish,  Barbara ! Thou  ’rt  more 
Standish  than  I,  for  thou  hast  the  eyes  of  those  old 
portraits  my  poor  father  vainly  tried  to  wrest  from  his 
cousin  Alexander.  Let  me  look  at  those  eyes,  Bar- 
bara !” 

“ And  so  because  it  suits  thy  convenience  to  make 
me  thy  wife,  thou  takst  no  heed  of  mine  own  fancies,” 
said  Barbara,  not  heeding  this  request.  “ And  I pray 
thee  unhand  me,  for  I promise  to  patiently  abide  till 
thou  hast  said  thy  say.” 

“ Now  there  again  thou  dost  me  wrong,  lass,  for  as  I 
told  thee  t’  other  day  there ’s  no  bachelor  here  fit  to  wed 
with  thee,  there ’s  none  I ’d  give  thee  to,  nor  would  I 
see  thee  wither  away  unwed.” 

“ Gramercy  cousin,  but  methinks  that  is  a question  I 
well  might  settle  for  myself.” 

6 6 Why  nay,  sith  there  is  no  gentleman  unwed  among 
our  company,  save  Allerton,  whom  I love  as  little  as 
thou  dost.” 

“ I care  not  for  any  ” — 

“ I know  it,  Barbara,  I know  it  well.  Thou  ’rt  that 
rare  marvel,  a woman  sufficing  unto  herself,  for  as  I 


414 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


believe,  thou  hast  never  fancied  any  man,  though  more 
than  one  hath  fancied  thee.” 

“’Tis  my  cold  heart,”  murmured  Barbara  with  a 
little  smile  strangled  in  its  birth. 

“ Nay,”  replied  her  cousin  thoughtfully  as  he  pulled 
at  his  moustache  and  gazed  upon  the  ground  at  his  feet. 
“ Nay,  I call  thee  not  so  much  heartless  as  fancy-free. 
Thou’rt  kind  and  gentle,  ay,  and  loving  as  my  dear 
mother  knew.  I’m  well  content  with  thy  heart  for 
such  as  it  is,  Barbara,  if  thou  ’It  but  give  it  me.” 

“ Nay,  Myles,  I ’m  deadly  sure  I ’ve  none  to  give,  and 
out  of  nothing  nothing  comes.” 

“ Thou  ne’er  canst  love  me,  Barbara  ? ” 

“ No  more  than  I love  thee  now,  Myles.” 

“ With  calm  cousin-love  thou  meanest  ? ” 

“ I am  ill  skilled  at  logic,  Myles.  I cannot  set  out 
my  feelings  in  class  and  order,  as  our  chirurgeon  doth  his 
herbs  and  flowers.” 

“ Well,  Barbara,  I ’m  grieved  that  thou  lookest  upon 
me  so  coldly,  but  I draw  not  back  from  my  petition. 
I ’d  liefer  have  thy  calm  tenderness  than  another’s  hot 
love,  for  I can  trust  thee  as  I trust  mine  own  honor* 
and  I know  full  well  that  thou  ’It  ever  be  better  than 
thy  word.  So  take  me,  Barbara,  for  thy  husband,  and 
fulfill  the  dear  mother’s  last  desire,  and  give  me  the 
hope  of  teaching  thee  in  the  days  to  come  to  love  me 
even  as  I love  thee.” 

But  for  all  answer  Barbara  only  turned  and  laid  her 
hands  in  his,  and  slowly  raised  the  wonder  of  her  eyes 
until  they  looked  straight  into  his  ; and  the  man  whose 
front  had  never  quailed  in  face  of  death  or  danger 
grew  pallid  beneath  his  bronze,  and  trembled  like  a leaf 
in  the  wind. 


BARBARA . 


415 


cc  What ! — Barbara  ! — Dost  really  love  me,  maid  ? 
Nay,  cheat  me  not  — speak ! Dost  love  me,  sweet- 
heart, already?” 

But  Barbara  said  never  a word,  nor  did  Myles  ever 
know  more  of  the  secret  of  her  life  than  in  that  one  su- 
preme moment  he  read  in  her  steadfast  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


A MILITARY  WEDDING. 

“ And  thou  ’rt  not  amazed,  Elsie,  that  our  captain 
and  his  kinswoman  will  wed  ? ” asked  Governor  Brad- 
ford of  his  wife  in  the  privacy  of  the  family  bedroom. 

“ No  more  than  at  the  sun’s  rising  in  the  East,”  re- 
plied Alice  with  a demure  little  smile. 

“ Hm  ! Master  Galileo  saith  the  sun  riseth  not  at 
all,  and  though  the  power  of  Rome  caused  him  to  gain- 
say it,  he  did  tell  me  privily  in  Amsterdam  that  it  was 
sooth,  and  the  sun  bided  forever  in  the  one  place  while 
this  round  world  turned  over  daily.” 

“ I ever  thought  the  good  man  was  a little  crazed,” 
replied  Mistress  Bradford  serenely.  “ Like  Paul,  much 
learning  had  made  him  mad.” 

“ Nay  wife,  ’t  was  Festus  charged  Paul  with  madness, 
because  the  apostle  knew  more  than  himself.  Haply 
*t  is  so  with  Master  Galileo.” 

“ It  may  be,  William.  These  be  not  matters  for 
women  to  meddle  withal,”  replied  Alice  meekly. 

“ But  anent  our  captain’s  wooing  of  his  cousin, 
Elsie  ? How  is ’t  thou  ’rt  not  amazed  like  the  rest  of 
us  ? ” 

“ Because  I saw  long  since  that  Barbara  would 
never  wed  another  than  her  cousin,  and  thou  knowest, 
Will,  how  like  draws  to  like,  even  across  the  waste  of 
ocean.” 


A MILITARY  WEDDING. 


417 


“Ay  dame,  I know  it  well  and  sweetly,  and  never 
shall  I forget  to  give  thanks  to  Him  whose  wisdom 
reacheth  from  end  to  end,  sweetly  ordering  all  things. 
But  how  chanced  Mistress  Barbara  to  confess  her  fond- 
ness  to  thee,  sweetheart  ? ” 

“ Nay  now ! Though  men  do  be  our  masters  in 
most  things,  how  dull  they  still  show  themselves  in 
others.  As  if  a maid,  or  for  that  matter  a widow,  would 
ever  6 confess  her  fondness  ’ for  any  man  till  he  had 
wooed  her  so  to  do,  and  but  coyly  then,  if  she  be  wise.” 

“Too  coyly  for  him  to  credit  her  with  overmuch  ten- 
derness,” suggested  the  bridegroom. 

“ Facts  speak  louder  than  words,  and  if  a woman 
will  set  herself  upon  far  and  perilous  journeys,  and  com- 
pass sea  and  land  to  come  to  him  who  calleth  her,  ma- 
thinks  he  need  not  doubt  her  friendship  for  him.  Nay 
now,  nay  now,  we  talk  of  Barbara  and  the  Captain,  and 
I ’ll  tell  thee.  Since  I was  left  alone  in  London,  — so 
lonely  too  in  my  wide  house  in  Duke’s  Place,  — I have 
taken  dear  and  sweet  counsel  with  Barbara,  whom  I 
first  knew  in  the  congregation  of  Pastor  Jacob,  and 
she  hath  been  my  guest  for  weeks  and  months  at  a time, 
so  that  if  any  two  women  know  each  other  well,  their 
names  are  Barbara  and  Alice.” 

“But  yet  she  never  told  thee  that  she  loved  her 
cousin  ? Now  that  is  passing  strange.” 

“ 5T  would  to  my  mind  have  been  far  stranger  had 
she  so  bewrayed  herself.” 

“ But  still  those  gentle  eyes  of  thine  read  the  secret 
of  her  heart  ? ” 

“ I did  mistrust  it  for  long,  but  when  I had  thy  letter, 
Will,  and  settled  my  mind  to  come  to  thee,  I told  Bar* 
bara  somewhat  of  the  old  story  ” — 


418 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


“ Of  how  thou  wast  minded  to  spite  thy  comely  face 
by  cutting  off  its  nose  ? ” 

But  Mistress  Bradford  had  no  smile  for  her  hus- 
band’s somewhat  coarse  jest,  and  went  quietly  on,  — 

“ And  I told  her,  too,  that  her  kinsman,  Myles,  had 
lost  the  sweet  wife  of  whom  she  had  so  often  and  so 
gently  spoken ; and  at  the  last  I told  her  I was  minded 
to  sell  all  that  I had  and  go  to  our  folk  in  New  Eng- 
land, and  I asked  her  would  she  go,  to  be  ever  and  al- 
ways my  dear  sister  if  no  other  home  should  offer,  and 
though  we  said  no  word  that  day  of  Captain  Standish, 
sure  am  I that  he  was  in  both  our  minds.  And  now, 
dear  man,  dost  see  through  the  millstone  ? ” 

“Ay,  since  woman’s  wit  hath  delved  a hole,  I can 
see  through  it  as  well  as  another.”  And  the  governor 
kissed  his  wife  as  merrily  as  another  man,  while  she 
adjusting  the  demure  matron’s  cap  about  her  fair  young 
face  went  out  to  see  that  the  breakfast  was  fairly 
spread. 

A fortnight  later  when  the  Anne  had  sailed,  and  the 
Little  James  had  returned  and  gone  again  upon  a luck- 
less fishing  trip,  and  the  new-comers  had  settled  into 
their  appointed  places,  and  the  town  was  once  more 
quiet,  there  came  a fair  September  day  when  work  was 
laid  aside,  and  after  breakfast  the  armies  of  the  colony, 
at  least  a hundred  souls  in  all,  — if  we  count  the  trum- 
peters, the  buglers,  the  fifers,  and  the  drummers,  — as- 
sembled on  the  Training  Green  just  across  the  brook, 
and  after  some  evolutions  marched  in  orderly  array  back 
again  past  the  spring  and  up  the  hill  to  the  governor’s 
house,  where  they  were  joined  by  him  and  the  elder. 
Then  up  and  on  to  the  captain’s  house,  where  a guard 
of  honor  presented  itself  at  the  door,  and  ushered  forth 


A MILITARY  WEDDING. 


419 


the  chief,  carefully  dressed  in  his  uniform  of  state,  while 
at  his  side  merrily  clanked  Gideon,  resplendent,  though 
none  but  he  and  his  master  knew  it,  in  such  a furbish- 
ing and  polishing  as  seldom  had  fallen  to  his  lot  before. 

Saluting  his  comrades  gravely  and  with  somewhat 
more  of  dignity  than  his  wont,  the  captain  took  his 
place,  and  the  procession  climbed  the  short  ascent  re- 
maining to  the  door  of  the  Fort,  where  entered  the 
dignitaries  and  as  many  more  as  could  find  room. 
Here  in  the  great  room  now  used  as  a place  of  worship 
a group  of  matrons  and  maids  awaited  them,  with  Bar- 
bara in  their  midst,  fair  and  stately  in  her  white  robes, 
the  glory  of  her  eyes  outvying  any  jewels  she  could  have 
worn. 

The  meagre  civil  service  was  spoken  by  the  gov- 
ernor, but  at  the  request  of  both  bride  and  bridegroom 
the  elder  made  a prayer  to  which  the  captain  listened 
more  reverently  than  his  wont,  and  cried  Amen  more 
heartily. 

Then  they  came  forth  these  two  Standishes  made 
one,  and  the  train  band  escorted  them  to  their  home, 
and  fired  a salute  of  honor,  whose  reverberating  waves 
rolling  across  the  waters  broke  at  last  upon  the  foot  of 
Captain’s  Hill,  sighing  away  into  silence  over  the  quiet 
plain  where  one  day  should  be  dug  a warrior’s  grave, 
marked  head  and  foot  with  a great  three-cornered 
stone. 


CHAPTER  XL. 


“ PARTING  IS  SUCH  SWEET  SORROW.’’ 

And  so,  tenderly,  reluctantly,  lingeringly  we  leave 
them,  these  dear  ones  whose  memory  we  cherish  so  lov- 
ingly, and  in  the  sober  reality  of  whose  lives  lies  a charm 
no  romance  can  ever  reach. 

Would  you  know  more  of  them,  for  there  are,  as  the 
Sultana  promised  morning  by  morning,  stranger  and 
better  things  to  come  than  these  that  have  been  told, 
go  read  the  annals  of  the  Pilgrims,  those  precious  frag- 
ments left  to  us  by  Bradford  and  by  Winslow,  and  a 
letter  written  by  De  Rasi&res,  Secretary  of  the  Dutch 
Colony  at  Manhattan,  who,  visiting  Plymouth  upon  a 
diplomatic  errand  in  1627,  wrote  to  his  superiors  a let- 
ter preserved  in  the  Royal  Library  of  Holland  wherein 
he  draws  this  little  picture  of  the  town  we  have  tried 
to  reproduce,  and  mentions  some  of  these  dear  friends 
whose  lives  we  know  so  much  better  than  he  did. 

u New  Plymouth  lies  on  the  slope  of  a hill,  stretch- 
ing east  toward  the  sea-coast  with  a broad  street  about 
a cannon  shot  long,  leading  down  the  hill  with  a cross 
street  in  the  middle  going  southward  to  the  rivulet,  and 
northward  to  the  land.  The  houses  are  constructed  of 
hewn  planks,  with  gardens  also  enclosed  behind,  and  at 
the  sides,  with  hewn  planks,  so  that  their  houses  and 
court-yards  are  arranged  in  very  good  order,  with  a 


“ PARTING  IS  SUCH  SWEET  SORROW”  431 


stockade  against  a sudden  attack  ; and  at  the  ends  of 
the  streets  there  are  three  wooden  gates.  In  the  centre 
on  the  cross  street  stands  the  Governor’s  house,  before 
which  is  a square  erection  upon  which  four  patereros 
are  mounted  so  as  to  flank  along  the  streets. 

“ Upon  the  hill  they  have  a large  square  house,  with 
a flat  roof  made  of  thick  sawn  planks  stayed  with  oak 
beams,  upon  the  top  of  which  they  have  six  cannons 
which  shoot  iron  balls  of  four  or  five  pounds  and  coim 
mand  the  surrounding  country.  The  lower  part  they 
use  for  their  church,  where  they  preach  on  Sundays  and 
the  usual  holidays.  They  assemble  by  beat  of  drum, 
each  with  his  musket  or  firelock,  in  front  of  the  Cap- 
tain’s door ; they  have  their  cloaks  on,  and  place  them- 
selves in  order  three  abreast,  and  are  led  by  a sergeant 
without  beat  of  drum.  Behind  comes  the  Governor  in 
a long  robe ; beside  him  on  the  right  hand  comes  the 
preacher  with  his  cloak  on,  and  on  the  left  hand  the 
Captain  with  his  side-arms  and  cloak  on,  and  with  a 
small  cane  in  his  hand ; and  so  they  march  in  good 
order,  and  each  sets  his  arms  down  near  him.  Thus 
they  are  constantly  on  their  guard  night  and  day.” 

But  after  all,  glad  as  we  are  of  this  little  loophole 
pierced  through  the  mists  of  antiquity,  the  fashion  of 
our  friends’  houses  and  court-yards,  their  cloaks  and 
muskets  and  quaint  Sunday  procession  are  not  as  valua- 
ble to  us  as  the  story  of  their  individual  lives : the  story 
of  Priscilla  and  John  Alden  and  their  children  ; of 
Myles,  military  power  of  the  colony,  beyond  his  three- 
score years  and  ten ; of  Barbara,  called  his  “ dear  wife  ” 
in  the  dignified  Last  Will,  wherein  he  bequeaths  “ Ormis- 
tic,  Bousconge,  Wrightington,  Maudesley  ” and  the  rest, 
to  Alexander  his  “ son  and  heir,”  sturdily  proclaiming 


422 


STANDISH  OF  STANDISH. 


with  as  it  were  his  last  breath,  that  these  fair  domains 
were  “ surreptitiously  detained  ” from  him.  And  Lora 
Standish,  fair  sweet  shadow  upon  the  mirror  of  the 
past ; and  Mary  Dingley,  beloved  of  the  grand  old 
warrior ; and  Alice  Bradford,  of  whom  at  the  last  Mor- 
ton wrote,  ~ 

Adoe  my  loving  freind,  my  aunt,  my  mother, 

Of  those  that’s  left  I have  not  such  another.” 

And  Bradford  himself,  and  Brewster,  and  Winslow, 
and  Howland,  each  one  of  whom  hath  left  behind  him 
enough  of  achievement  to  fill  a dozen  of  the  degenerate 
lives  of  a butterfly  of  to-day  ; and  the  women  they  loved, 
and  the  young  men  and  maidens  who  rose  up  around 
them  : ah,  how  can  we  leave  them,  how  can  we  say 
good-by!  Shall  we  not  the  rather  cherish  them  and 
study  them  more  than  we  ever  yet  have  done,  feeling 
in  our  hearts  that  those  virtues,  that  courage,  and  that 
nobility  of  life  may  be  ours  as  well  as  theirs,  may  illus- 
trate the  easy  life  of  to-day,  and  make  it  less  unworthy 
to  be  the  fruit  of  the  Tree  of  Liberty,  planted  in  the 
blood  and  watered  by  the  tears  of  our  Fathers. 


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